


Hidden Desires

by jade_lil



Series: Hidden Desires [1]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Arashi - Freeform, Hooker Fic, M/M, Sakumoto - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 29,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade_lil/pseuds/jade_lil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is only his third night tonight but it sure feels like everyone’s attention are on him, eyes fixed on him as he slowly rids himself off his outer shirt first while he thrusts his hips forwards, backwards, the way he had learned during practice</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the dark, I only see you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinigamiami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigamiami/gifts), [kinoface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/gifts).



It is only his third night tonight but it sure feels like everyone’s attention are on him, eyes fixed on him as he slowly rids himself off his outer shirt first while he thrusts his hips forwards, backwards, the way he had learned during practice. He’s in the middle of slipping his fingers inside the hem of his undershirt to tug it up (it’s part of the routine, of course)  when his gaze sweeps past the crowd of drunken (closet gay) salarymen and their attending okamas to find the familiar face of the man who had been his first and regular customer since he started here three nights ago. 

He finds him in one try, seeing the man lifts his beer as his usual gesture, smiling a little when he smirks in response before pulling his undershirt off him completely, swaying his hips to the rhythm of Enrique Iglesias’ Hero, fingers hovering over the button of his stylishly ripped pants. 

Their eyes catch for a few more seconds as the man lazily sips on his beer and he teasingly shoves a finger into his mouth, sucking on it while he does a few hip rolls without breaking eye contact. 

He sees the way the man puts his bottle down to stare at him, biting his lips as the man leans back on his chair, seemingly intent on enjoying the show along with about sixty other men, at least for now. 

He picks up his pace as he returns to the stage, fingers quickly working on the button of his pants as the spotlight follow him, and the same way he knows the man’s eyes are following him too. 

He drops his pants and cups himself as the crowd goes wild, but his focus is solely on the man sitting on the far end, with eyes so dark and lips that promises heaven.


	2. One wrong move and everything changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed, sorry about that.

He has changed into a respectable pair of white V-neck T-shirt and ripped-on-the-knees jeans when Taichi-san knocks on his door and tells him he is being requested to join a customer, again. 

He doesn’t even need to ask who it is this time, because there is only one man who can afford him (he had set his overall fee higher than most regulars here on purpose, because if he’s going to allow anyone to take him out, he wants to make sure it is worth his damn time), needing no prompting as he tells Taichi-san he’ll join the client in a few. The floor manager grunts his response and tells him he better not make the customer waiting, opening the door to his dressing room and stares expectantly at him as he is fanning himself with a paper fan. 

He sighs. “You don’t have to wait for me, I’m almost done here, I just need –“ 

Taichi-san ignores him, continues fanning himself. “ – to hurry it up because we don’t want to keep our clients waiting, you do know that, don’t you? I don’t mean to sound like I’m leading you around but I am sure that that person is no ordinary, and no ordinary means we have to take every possible way to take care of that person,” 

He meets Taichi-san’s careful gaze. “I understand perfectly,” his answer is simple even though he is feeling this huge urge to go into an even more elaborated response just to shut the older man up, but stops himself short of saying anything that he knows will give him away – whatever the hell that means. 

“Then we’re good,” Taichi-san says with a smile. “Now, do you mind going out there to meet him? You know we don’t want to keep our clients waiting,” he says, repeating his earlier statement like a mantra. 

“Right,” he mumbles, steps out of the dressing room when Taichi-san stepped aside, giving him enough room to squeeze himself out of the tiny door without accidentally elbowing his grinning floor manager on his way out.

 

#

 

He worms his way straight to this particular client’s table with an almost practiced ease, like he knows exactly where the man is even without seeing him. The bar is dimly-lighted as it is and the only other spot with a decent lighting here is the stage – but even the lights in there aren’t bright enough to cover the whole place, thus, sitting this far from the stage (where it’s almost too dark to see) gives anyone the advantage to do anything without attracting attention to himself. 

He isn’t really sure if it’s reason enough for this man to sit here every damn night but he knows he’s not in the position to ask. 

He bows his head when he reaches the table, squinting blearily so as to adjust his eyes to the semi-darkness and waits until the man motions for him to sit down, which he does after about five seconds, and pushing a tall cold glass of beer in front of him. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles after he sits down, taking the beer in between his hands and lifting it to sample a sip, eyes settling on the man’s face. The man’s feature is blurred with shadows, but even here he can make out the prominent lines of his jaw, the point of his nose and the quirk at the edges of his beautiful mouth. He has seen this man twice of course, but in those occasions he was busy doing and thinking of something else that he always forget to memorize this man’s face when it’s not hidden in the dark. 

During those two encounters, he is sure that this man was merely testing him, looking at him in that way a strict instructor looks at his students – firm and persistent but secretly praising his students when they meet his standards – but this time, he is pretty sure there’s something different in the way the man stares at him that the thought itself is making him a bit uncomfortable, a bit self-conscious, the way he hasn’t felt in his company before. 

It’s the third night the man asked for him, but during the past two nights, the man never once said anything to him, just motioned him to finish his beer before the man drags him out that bar and into the parking lot, to his car, where the man would suck him off lazily for about half an hour, pushing a few extra ten thousand yens into his pocket before shoving him out of his car and drive off, leaving him achingly hard and pissed. 

“Do you have anything after your shift here?” the man speaks for the first time, and he is genuinely startled that he almost chokes on his beer, eyes wide as he stares into the man’s face. The action seemed to amuse the other man as he leans back away with a chuckle. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he wipes his hand and the table with tissue, mentally smacking himself on the head for being so clumsy. “I was just surprised that you – I m-mean –“ 

The man shrugs, reaches for his own glass and takes another sip; he catches himself before he even think of staring, of watching the man’s mouth while he drinks his beer. 

“I’m not really fond with talking when there are far more important things to do with my time,” he says simply. 

He nods even though he’s not really sure what he’s agreeing to because he doesn’t really understand what the man means, but he thinks it is not his place to ask. 

“I don’t have anything after this,” he says, rubbing the moisture off the bottle with his thumb and expecting the other man to say something; when he doesn’t, he lifts the bottle and takes another tentative sip. “I mean, I’m free to go if that’s –“ 

“Fine,” the man says, cutting him off. “ – shall we go, then?” the man stands up, not looking particularly concerned if he’s going to come or not. But really, he doesn’t think he still have any choice at this point; he just wishes the man would be kind enough not to kick him out of his car without letting him come first, just like the past two nights. 

“Are we –“ he starts to say and the other man stills visibly. 

He kind of regretted even opening his mouth when the man remains frozen still for a few more beats before he tilts his head into his direction and gives him the tiniest hint of smile. 

“No,” the man answers as if he knows exactly what he was supposed to ask, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “I’m going to take you home this time,”

He is surprised but he does his best not to show it. “O-Okay.” 

The man arches an eyebrow and un-crosses his arms, stretches an arm towards him for a handshake which he automatically receives. 

“By the way,” the man says at the same time their hands touch and he feels the kind of electricity he only feels when this man’s mouth is on him and is otherwise occupied. “My name is Jun; I know it is kind of late for introduction but I had to make sure you were the one before I reveal anything about myself,” 

What? Does he think he’s revealing anything about himself when he only tells him his name? 

He bites his tongue before he say something stupid and waits a few seconds to gather his thoughts before he replies. 

“Well, in that case I’m Sh –“

“Sakurai Sho, I know,” the man cuts in again, “ – let’s continue this heartwarming introductions where it’s comfortable for the both of us, shall we?”


	3. Dark as the night, pretty as the pale, blue sky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The entire car ride was a blurry, haze-clouded affair, because Jun (the man still hasn’t given him his last name, which is odd) had made sure his attention was focused into something entirely else the whole time they were driving home to Jun’s apartment.

The entire car ride was a blurry, haze-clouded affair, because Jun (the man still hasn’t given him his last name, which is odd) had made sure his attention was focused into something entirely else the whole time they were driving home to Jun’s apartment. 

Well, it shouldn’t surprise him, not really, that the man possibly had brains everywhere for him to be completely capable of driving his car and driving Sho crazy at the same time. It shouldn’t, because the other man surely was good at multi-tasking, talking with someone else with his phone speaker on, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on Sho’s crotch.

Exactly the same time the car was out of the parking lot, Jun’s left hand had started wandering away, from its previous grip around the steering wheel to his companion’s right leg. He at least managed not to squeak in shock at the first touch, but soon enough he was making embarrassing noises when Jun’s hand came back only to firmly cup him through his pants. 

“Spread your legs wider, and keep still, Sho-san,” Jun had commanded, firmly, and the tone of his voice was enough to make Sho’s legs tremble as he parted them wider, giving Jun’s hand the opportunity to explore further. 

He made an affirming noise when Jun’s fingers found the tip of his half-hard cock, giving it a firm squeeze before Jun’s phone rang, making him squeak in surprise. Jun chuckled, amused, before sliding his hand along the base of his cock and turning to smile smugly at him. 

“Be quiet,” Jun said before he let go, but only briefly, to answer his phone and putting it on speaker before the hand was back to touching him. “Yes, this is Matsumoto – tell me.” Matsumoto. Jun Matsumoto. So that’s the guy’s name. 

_Matsumoto-san, the main contractor for the Delta Sky Tower just called to ask if you are going to confirm the job because –_

“No, I didn’t say I am going to approve that one,” Matsumoto Jun growled, cutting off whoever he was talking to, his hand on Sho’s crotch not stilling even the tiniest bit. “Did I say I am going to confirm that stupid job?” 

_No, Matsumoto-sa –_

“That’s right, I didn’t. The next time that asshole calls you, tell him to go straight to hell,” 

_Yes, Matsumoto-san, Sir._

“I’m turning off my phone so don’t bother calling me. I’ll see you tomorrow for the presentation. Goodnight,”

 _Yes, Sir, good –_  

Click. 

Matsumoto dragged his fingertips alongside the base of Sho’s now fully-hardened cock, tilted his head to face him before he turned his attention back to driving. 

“Sorry about that,” Matsumoto said, though he really didn’t look like he was sorry at all; Sho’s breath hitched when Matsumoto thumbed the damp head of his cock and grinned. “Hmm, you’re wet; does it feel good?”

He pursed his lips and nodded, hoping it was alright to do that and realizing that Matsumoto was maneuvering the car in front of a remote-controlled gate and inside a very private, very-sophisticated-looking apartment building without bothering taking his hand off of Sho’s crotch. 

It was too easy to ask him to unzip his pants so Jun could touch him more freely but he didn’t, instead, Jun kept touching him from outside, tracing the outline of his cock through the rough fabric while driving. His breath kept hitching, and it didn’t help that Jun simply knew when to stop his fingers, exactly when he was about to come in his pants while trying not to whine out loud in utter frustration. 

Sho was torn between checking the place out and moaning because Matsumoto chose that moment to roll his palm over his clothed erection, his other hand steady on the wheel as he steered the car into an obviously reserved parking without even breaking a sweat. 

He was gasping by the time Matsumoto turned his headlights off, unbuckled his seat belt and squeezed him hard through his pants. 

“M-Matsumoto-san, p-please?” he couldn’t remember how many times he’d begged Jun already, but Jun still hadn’t caved in; the front of his jeans was wet from the evidence of his own desire and he really had to fight the urge to move his hands and join Matsumoto’s hand instead to finish himself off because he was afraid the other man would kick him out of the car and he’d have no other choice but to walk home on foot (like that hadn’t happened before) with his dick as hard as rock inside his pants.

“Matsumoto-san, huh,” Jun chuckled before bending over to nip the outline of his cock, his breath warm against the fabric. Sho wondered how the other man managed to bend over like that without getting stabbed by his own car’s clutch.  “What do you want, Sho-san? Tell me,” 

Sho was trembling; fingers gripping the car door’s side handle as Jun teasingly bit his erection through his jeans, before Sho felt the tale-tell movements of Jun’s hand as it slowly worked on unbuttoning his pants. 

“Oh god, p-please,” 

“Please what, Sho-san?” Jun’s mouth hovered over the sensitive flesh, mouthing at the damp fabric of Sho’s boxers, slowly tugging it down by his thumb as he breathed warm air across the swollen head.

“I want to come, Matsumoto-san,” Sho responded shakily, “M-Make me come, please?” 

Jun laughed a little but moved to cup Sho firmly. 

“It’ll cost you, Sho-san,” he said. 

Sho didn’t care, fingers flying to Jun’s hair. 

“I know, but –“ he stopped, giving way to a moan so loud because Jun’s mouth was on him, swallowing him down to the root.

 

 

 

 

  

 


	4. Rock with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are we getting somewhere? LOL.

The elevator ride up to Matsumoto-san’s place was even a blurrier affair, what with Matsumoto-san’s mouth sealed over his and the other man’s hands roaming all over his body as they climbed up; he was only partly worried about security cameras placed on the elevator itself, of security people watching them as they make out hotly but Matsumoto-san told him there’s nothing he should be worried about – they are riding his private elevator afterall. 

He remembered humming his response as Matsumoto-san licked his mouth, shoved his way in and sucked on his tongue like how he usually sucked his cock he could barely think. 

The elevator dings, and it is enough to jerk him awake, enough to pull away but Matsumoto-san’s hands are there to pull him right back. 

“W-We’re here, I think,” he tells the other man, swallowing hard when Matsumoto-san growls his response.

“Funny, that should be line,” the other man’s lips quirks just as the door of the elevator opens and he is immediately being tugged outside, Matsumoto-san’s fingers are tight around his wrist. “Come on,” the other man mutters, almost out of breath as he leads him forward and into an electronically-locked door. Matsumoto-san doesn’t even let go as he reaches inside his pants’ pocket for his key-card, swipes it against the door and tugs him quietly inside when the door opens. 

“Are we in a rush?” he manages to blurt out, because he could feel the sizzle of desire crackling between them, and not even that mind-blowing orgasm he experienced in the car a while ago isn’t enough to keep him from wanting Matsumoto-san again. “I told you I’m free all evening, and I don’t have any plans on –“ 

Matsumoto-san scowls, crowds him and leans in for one of the most toe-curling kisses he has ever received, making him grab for Matsumoto-san’s arms for support. 

“You’re only saying that because you already came your brains out and you’re not the one with the fucking huge hard on; be nice, Sho-san,” Matsumoto rasps out, nipping his way from the corners of his mouth to the line of his jaw, while his nimble fingers move down to cup him through his pants. “Well, what have we got here?” Matsumoto comments huskily, amused at the fact that he’s hard and aching as well. 

He chuckles, suddenly feeling braver than he usually is when he’s with this man. He moves them around until he’s the one backing Matsumoto-san to the wall, works his hand down to the front of Matsumoto-san’s pants as Matsumoto tries to rein his whimpers in. 

“I’d gladly return the favor, Matsumoto-san,” he says, lifting Matsumoto-san’s expensive dress shirt to peek in, whistling quietly to himself at seeing the expanse of delicious abs – so he’s not the only one who likes keeping himself fit, Matsumoto-san is too. “Wow,” he says, lifting the shirt higher and ducking down to nip at Matsumoto-san’s biceps and grinning at the way it made Matsumoto-san shiver. 

Matsumoto-san grabs him by the shoulders, tugs him up and crashes their mouths together; then he’s pulling back, leaning forward to bite at his lower lip before he steps back. 

“Nice offer, but no,” Matsumoto-san answers, catches him by the elbow and leading him towards what he guesses is the bedroom. “I’ll take what I can get and you’re going to give it to me,” he says, the words sinking in at the same time he is able to get a glimpse of the room they just entered into. 

“W-What the hell is this?” he mutters, his blood running cold. 

Matsumoto-san drapes himself behind him, arms circling around his waist as the other man licks at the side of his neck. 

“You’ll know pretty soon,” Matsumoto replies, makes a quick work on his pants as he stays there, wide-eyed and trembling. 

“On the bed.   _Now_.”


	5. Give and Take

“You’re not going to tie me to your bed, Matsumoto-san,” he bites out, frozen on his feet as Matsumoto-san licks his way from his nape to his throat, rounding the way so he ends up standing in front of him, fingers undressing him as quickly as he could. He realized Matsumoto-san is already working to relieve him off his shirt when the other man leans in and whispers his request, before his hand tugs on his shirt and pulls it off him. 

“Would you rather have me hang you to my ceiling then?” the other man mumbles back, making him gasp in a shuddering breath when his cock is quickly being sucked on, hard, pumping his erection at the same time. “Either way is fine with me, I just don’t want you freaking out on me while I fuck you. Which is surely going to happen, whether you like it or not,”

Well, the fucking part isn’t surprising, not at all, but this?

Matsumoto goes back to sucking him, his wicked tongue licking the tip of him as he stands there, torn between running away and giving Matsumoto-san the o-kay; he feels hot all over, he feels so turned on but this – this is something he doesn’t normally do. Sex with girls is okay, with guys even better, but to have sex with someone while he’s restrained or blindfolded, not really; well, at least he hasn’t tried any of that or hasn’t thought of trying them. 

And this room is filled with those and more. 

He’s not really familiar with the usual BDSM crap, and there really hasn’t anyone (whom he dated and slept with) who was into this kind of things but – 

“I’m not going to spank you or use anything in here to hurt you, Sho-san, so you can stop freaking out now,” Matsumoto-san drawls from below, lips hovering over the head of his throbbing cock. “I just want to see you tied to my bed because I’ve been imagining that for days now – seeing you spread wide open for me, unable to do anything as I pound into you. I’m not going to do anything to hurt you, just make you and I feel good, the same way I’ve been doing to you since we met,” 

Well, if that’s the case, then. “No whips and chains? Really?” 

Matsumoto licks him again, bringing him to full hardness in no time. 

“Really,” the other man answers, “ – but if you want me to use one of the toys I’ve got here on you, just let me know,”

He grabs Matsumoto by the shoulders, hauls him up and kisses him hard and fast. 

“The hell I will,” he says, rolling his hips against Matsumoto’s cloth-covered crotch. “I’ll be allowing you to fuck me already, that should be enough, right?” 

Matsumoto wraps him in his fingers, squeezes him lightly until he moans right back, as he claws his fingers round the back of Matsumoto’s head, drawing him closer.

Matsumoto kisses him back, wet and messy, pulling back far enough to whisper, “Not enough, _never_ ,”

 


	6. Get it right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short update :D

Matsumoto thrusts into him, hard enough that the bed rattles beneath them and he keens, tugging on the red cuffs restraining his wrists and groaning at the same time. The other man has his hands on both his knees, spreading his legs further apart as his cock slips in and out of him leisurely. He came two times already, but Matsumoto has yet to get there, his concentration fully focused on driving him completely crazy, as if being fucked like this isn’t enough to drive anyone up the wall with how fucking amazing Matsumoto-san is when it comes to delaying his own pleasure.

He’s pretty sure he’s approaching his limit and yet he couldn’t find it in him to call Matsumoto-san out on it to see if he’d be shown some mercy; afterall, he’d expected to be treated fairly differently if the few nights he spent with this man is of any indication, and really, he couldn’t complain further if Matsumoto-san already did more than to compensate for those two nights he kicked Sho out of his car without letting him come, right?

His body’s trembling with exertion, he’s sweaty and he thinks he just came his brains out not even ten minutes ago and yet Matsumoto-san is still fucking him like he couldn’t get enough of him. Matsumoto-san’s eyes are so, so dark as he gazes him down, watching him hungrily from where he is suspended above Sho’s body. 

“Don’t tell me twice is already your limit, Sho-san, or I’m seriously going to laugh at your face,” Matsumoto-san breathes, his voice sultry and teasing, and Sho wonders how he’s doing it – talking like the question simply pops into his head and that he’s nowhere near to looking like a man who’s got his dick shoved inside someone’s ass. 

Instead, he looks amused, fascinated to say the least, hips moving as if on autopilot as he grips Sho’s legs firmly. 

Sho wisely doesn’t comment on that and simply bites his lips and, completely forgetting his wrists are shackled against the bedpost, tugs at his arms and groans when he realizes he couldn’t as much as get his hands free so he could put them on Matsumoto-san’s hair. 

“Hmm,” Matsumoto-san hums, stilling for a little bit before resuming thrusting into the heat of Sho’s body and thus eliciting raspy moans from Sho in response. “It seems you want to touch me,” Matsumoto-san drawls, lazy and inquiring, angling his thrusts a little to the right and therefore hitting Sho’s still very much sensitive prostate, and laughing low on his throat when Sho outright yells. 

“Ah, we’re finally getting somewhere,” he comments before he pulls out completely, and the loss of his cock is enough to draw another gasp from the center of Sho’s chest. Then he’s reaching up to unlock the cuffs, throws it carelessly aside once it came off of Sho’s wrists and then quickly repositions himself between Sho’s legs. 

“I’m going to fuck you hard now, Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san tells him once he’s managed to slip his cock in with so little difficulty, and rearranging his grip on Sho’s legs once he’s settled, but not before reaching out to grab one of Sho’s hands and placing it around his shoulders.

Sho gasps when Matsumoto-san rolls his hips experimentally against him, draws another breathy moan from them both when Matsumoto-san’s cock slips all the way in. 

“So I suggest you hang in tight and don’t let go until I tell you so,” Matsumoto-san finishes this with a wink, and rams into him hard and fast.

 

 


	7. Wonder no more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did I accidentally sign up for some kind of exclusivity with this guy when I joined? I didn’t read anything about it in the contract,” he follows as he tries his hardest to swallow his annoyance down, because really, everything’s getting seriously ridiculous by the minute and he doesn’t even know what to make of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wrote 2 chapters in one go, yaay! will post the next one tomorrow :D

“Am I not allowed to entertain other customers?” he asks brusquely, biting his tongue a little too late though he’s pretty sure he’s going to get in trouble for even asking anyway, but what the hell, he needs to get it out of his chest before he ends up batshit insane. 

“Did I accidentally sign up for some kind of exclusivity with this guy when I joined? I didn’t read anything about it in the contract,” he follows as he tries his hardest to swallow his annoyance down, because really, everything’s getting seriously ridiculous by the minute and he doesn’t even know what to make of it. 

He does his best to keep himself from groaning when, the moment he looks up, he finds Taichi-san in the middle of nibbling a stick of strawberry-flavored Pocky and looking politely bored. 

“Taichi-san –“ 

“It’s not like that,” the older man finally says after he’s done munching, putting down the box and eyeing Sho warily. “It’s just that, well, the guy sort of paid a generous amount of money to reserve you – had instructed us to keep other customers from booking you –“ 

“But he’s not even here!” he snaps, “He hasn’t been here for a week and I --- customers are asking for me, why can’t I at least entertain them? I don’t have to go home with them if that’s –“ 

Taichi-san shrugs, like he doesn’t really care that Sho’s about to pop a blood vessel and die. 

“Well, that’s actually another part of the request,” Taichi-san says. 

“What, to keep me from entertaining other people even when he’s not around? Taichi-san, that’s ridiculous! You’re the one who hired me, the one who’s paying me, so that goes without saying that only you has the right to –“ 

“You’re talking like you didn’t enjoy every minute you spent with that man,” Taichi-san cuts in, saying something completely far from what he’s been moaning about and Sho feels his cheeks burn at Taichi-san’s insinuating tone, coupled with the way the older man is batting his eyelashes at him. 

“That’s not – I don’t –“ argh, what the hell? He’s trying to prove something here but Taichi-san (and the memory of Matsumoto-san’s body atop him, mouth hot and wet against his as Matsumoto-san slid in and out of his body expertly) is making it rather difficult for him to do that. 

“Sakurai-san, it’s not that bad if you really think about it,” Taichi-san tells him, “The guy wants you for himself, and though I personally don’t approve it, his money’s letting him do whatever the hell he wants anyway. I _know_ – I know I should have warned you about it but, what else should a poor, businessman man like me can do? Aside from paying the club for his every visit, and aside from the, uh, reservation fee he already shelled out for you, I’m pretty sure he also pays you a crapload of money when he takes you home with him, so there’s really no reason for me or you to complain there,” 

“It’s not just about the money,” he grumbles, knows that his face is betraying what his mouth is saying. Reservation fee? Matsumoto-san paid a whole lot just to make sure no one else will be able to take him home even when the other man isn’t around? If that’s not something to be awed about, he really don’t know what is, and frankly, though he hasn’t been in the business long enough to know that what Matsumoto-san did was creepy in all sorts of way, he couldn’t help but feel something entirely else – something that doesn’t have anything to do with anger or annoyance or disgust even. 

“Maybe,” Taichi-san agrees and Sho thinks the older man’s expression softens, and his mouth is tilted just a little shy for it to be disguised as an indulgent, almost fond smile. “But I sure know he’s using it to his advantage and we’re too fucking weak to resist it,” 

“Right,” Sho has to stop himself short from rolling his eyes, “Like you give a damn about anything when money’s being thrown at your face – makes me want to think a whole fucking lot now if I want to continue working for you, or quit before you end up reserving my kidney to anyone who would pay up front for it,” he lamely adds, allowing his brain to work out the scenarios in his head like he hasn’t allowed it before.     

Taichi-san chuckles. “Aww, don’t worry,” he says, beaming up at him, “People come here for entertainment, booze or sex, so you don’t have to worry about your kidney or whatever. Just maybe, occasionally, your ass or your dick because those are what they’re usually after,” 

He shakes his head, amused at the irony of it all, because, well, Taichi-san is right. In this business, people would come with a thing or two in mind – to screw or be screwed, and at the very least, he hasn’t been here long enough to find out whether selling his ass out to anyone who would want to pay for it is better than just letting one person reserve it for himself, and honestly, he doesn’t think he would want to know anymore. 

It is maybe downright creepy for one guy to shell out a fortune just to make sure no one will be able to get their hands on his chosen merchandise (because Sho feels like it, really), but who is he to question it? At least Matsumoto-san is pleasant towards him, (aside maybe from the first few times he’d kicked Sho out from his car without letting him come) not to mention the fact that Matsumoto-san is ridiculously good-looking and insanely wealthy, Sho thinks there shouldn’t have any more reasons for him to feel bad about this. 

But, come to think of it, maybe the reason he’s feeling off is because – “Taichi-san,” he calls, taking Taichi-san’s attention away from his sugary snacks. “Did Matsumoto-san mentioned why he hasn’t been coming here? Or how long is he going to keep on wasting his money on _us_ – on _me_ – because, let’s face it, I’m also losing tons of potential income because I couldn’t be with other customers when the word RESERVED is practically stamped on my forehead,” 

Taichi-san giggles at that. “Isn’t it easier to just ask whether your favorite guy left a message for you to come contact him whenever you want? There’s really no need to be a bitch about it,” 

“What? You mean –“ he sputters, then catches himself short of saying something he knows would give him away, because what the hell, that smirk on Taichi-san’s face is enough indication that he knows something about his relationship with Matsumoto-san that Sho really don’t want to think about now. 

Taichi-san reaches down to open his drawer, grabs something from there – a piece of paper, no, a card – and tosses it to Sho, who has to scramble clumsily to receive it.

When he checks it out, it has nothing on it.

Sho scowls and turns to scowl at Taichi-san. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

Taichi-san shrugs. “That’s for you to figure out, kid,” he says, waving a hand out at him; he stands up and looks at the card in his hand again. “Your favorite guy gave that to me and told me to give it to you,” 

“But there’s nothing in it,” he says, holding the small card up. “What the hell am I suppose to do with it if there’s nothing in it?”

“Hey, I’m just a messenger,” Taichi-san breezes and waves a hand out at him, “And I don’t remember getting extra payment for teaching you that to be able to read the contents of that magical thing, you just need to put the thing under –“ 

“UV light,” he murmurs to himself, “what the _fuck_?” 

“Ah, so you’re not just a pretty face, you have a brain too, good to know,” 

He ignores Taichi-san and bows instead. “Please excuse me, I think I have important things to attend to now,” 

Taichi-san waves him off with a grin. “Of course, of course,” he says before he goes back to his snacks. “Let me know how it will go, yeah? You know I’m a sucker for those things,” he adds with another wriggle of his eyebrows and Sho chooses to ignore him, as he turns around and heads straight to the door. 

There’s somewhere he badly needs to be right now and it’s certainly not inside Taichi-san’s office.


	8. When you say so

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry.

His fingers are seriously shaking but he doesn’t let it get in the way, slapping the phone against his ear and telling himself to calm the fuck down while he listens for the call to connect. 

Two rings and – “Matsumoto.” 

Fuck. “H-Hello?” his voice trails, and he’s seriously considering hanging up because Matsumoto-san’s tone honestly sounded pissed, if anything. But, damn it, he’s got Matsumoto-san’s card in his hand, with Matsumoto-san’s personal number, written by Matsumoto-san’s own hand which Matsumoto-san specifically instructed to be handed over to him. That’s got to mean something, right? 

“Sho-san,” came the quick reply and Sho’s voice halts, feels his face heats embarrassingly as he bites his nails. “I see you’ve got my message,” 

Sho gulps. God, Matsumoto-san’s voice is doing funny things to his senses and he doesn’t even know how to stop it, or if he even wants to, suddenly feeling like a hormonal teenager talking to his first crush. 

“Well, there’s no message in it, really,” he says, going for the easier way, which he’s not sure if it is; he just has to trust himself on this, then. He hears Matsumoto-san’s answering laughter, soft as it is he’s still able to hear it, feeling suddenly hot and aroused just by simply hearing him. 

“A phone number?” Matsumoto-san husks out, sounding amused; well, he could be, judging by the sound of his voice and Sho will bet his right hand that Matsumoto-san is anything but. 

“Has to be, since you answered,” Sho agrees with a nod of his head, then grins when he realized Matsumoto-san couldn’t actually see him. “Anyway, what’s up with the numbers being invisible?” he asks, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to make me work for it – for your number, that is,” 

“Um, just trying to make things a little more interesting, that’s all,” Matsumoto-san laughs, and Sho finds that he couldn’t suppress the way his body is shivering at the sound of the other man’s voice, the memory of the other man’s moans when he came inside him.

Sho rolls his eyes. “I –“ he pauses, feels his initial confidence slipping out from him slowly. “I was – I didn’t know if it was right to call you, but. I guess it’s a little too late to regret that now, huh?” he says instead, and gets a few seconds of silence in return. 

“You did call,” Matsumoto-san answers, his voice quiet; “And I’m glad that you did,” 

“I had to think it over a couple of times,” he admits lowly, “I was wondering what – I mean,”

“Well, what can I say, I think you made the right decision,” Matsumoto-san breathes, and Sho tries to swallow around the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. “Congratulations, Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san sing-songs and god, his voice alone is enough to make him hard, the velvety sound of Matsumoto-san’s voice is like a gentle caress on every pleasure points on his body. 

Sho’s eyes close on their own and he has to literally bite his tongue to keep the unnecessary (and downright embarrassing) sounds from escaping his mouth, though he’s not sure if he’s successful in doing it, most especially at the sound of Matsumoto-san’s labored breathing on the other end. 

“One week,” he finds himself saying, and he doesn’t care if sounded like he’s accusing but who the fuck cares? He’s on the phone anyway, and if Matsumoto-san doesn’t like it, he could very well come over now and punish him for it. “And you know, I just found out I wasn’t allowed to entertain anyone, aside from the person who paid a whole goddamn lot of money to reserve me and my fucking services, so I ended up staring at the wall inside the dressing room after my every performance – for the whole fucking week,” 

Matsumoto-san’s laughter, like the man himself, is mysterious, if not arousing; Sho really needs to stop getting turned on by his voice alone because, fuck, that’s just so wrong. “Well, would you like me to apologize?” Matsumoto-san says, and he sounded like he’s actually daring Sho, but Sho’s brain is in an entirely different universe right now to even properly comprehend.

“You paid a fucking fortune to reserve me and yet you stopped coming over,” he grits, “Such a gigantic waste of money,” 

A  beat, then. “I was busy,” Matsumoto-san replies, his tone softer now and Sho wants to crawl his way next to the other man, smell Matsumoto-san’s aftershave as he folds himself beside him. “There’s a big project coming up that needed my full attention,” he follows, then, “and it’s not what you think it is, okay? No money’s wasted if it is spent on you, Sho-san, so don’t even think about it,” he says, and there is something in his tone that makes Sho’s chest clench tightly, makes his heartbeat go crazy though he doesn’t know why. It doesn’t even occur to him what Matsumoto-san’s words meant until he has his own damn mouth working the words out from it. 

Too late, he’s already spitting out the words he’s only thinking moments before, when his brain has finally able to catch up with his mouth.

“Way I see it, it’s exactly what I think it is,” he counters; he doesn’t know why he sure sounds like he’s picking a fight, but it’s this or he’d be forever left in the dark. He wants to know why Matsumoto-san chose him, why he’s bothering with him at all when he can get anybody he wants with just a snap of his fingers and he wants to know it now. “You don’t reserve, or hire a fucking whore for your own dubious amusement, Matsumoto-san, then leave him for a whole fucking week without as much as a single peep. I was hoping I could earn some money while my regular client isn’t around by accepting invitations from other customers but everytime I tried to, a bouncer always comes by to haul my ass off, thus scaring the said customer away. I’m not even – I don’t even know what the fuck is going on!“ 

“I didn’t pay an awful lot of money to let anyone fuck you when I can’t be there to do it, Sho-san, so deal with it,” Matsumoto-san hisses, completely lacking the earlier tenderness that makes Sho’s stomach twist unpleasantly. 

“You didn’t have to do it!” he half-yells, annoyance pouring all at once and he doesn’t have any intention of stopping it now. “I’m just – I’m just a whore and you don’t reserve a whore for nothing, Matsumoto-san, it’s just so –“

“Well I’ve already done that, so what?” Matsumoto-san asks, clearly pissed. “And I am pretty sure your boss briefed you about it, too, so why keep whining? And if you’re worried about the money –“ 

“I’m not!” 

“ – I had your supposed daily earnings checked beforehand, and I had the total amount deposited in your account the day before yesterday, too. I’ll be adding the usual amount I’m paying you when I take you home with me before the week end, so you wouldn’t have to worry about the money you think you lost while I wasn’t there. Hmm, it seems the reason why you’re whining is because you don’t actually check your account unless necessary, huh?” 

His heart starts pounding – all that money, for him? “I – I c-can’t accept that,” he finds himself whispering. 

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I didn’t work for it, that’s why!” he hollers, already past his limit though he knows this is another thing he probably would have to face eventually. Well, Matsumoto-san’s indulgence is one thing, but dealing with the aftermath of his anger is another. “You just – you can’t just throw your money around like that and I cannot accept something I didn’t work for, okay? Take it back, or I –“

“Y-You’re – You’re impossible,” Matsumoto-san says, sounding helplessly stunned, but then he’s quickly shifting gears as if he’s perfectly comfortable dealing with whining people – people like Sho himself. “Listen, Sho-san, you already knew that I’ve paid your boss to reserve you and your services for me, and regardless of the fact that I wasn’t there to get _it_ – to get _you_ – it doesn’t matter; I have to pay you because it’s the right thing to do. Think of it like this, if you booked a hotel room but you ended up not using it, you still have to pay for it, right?” 

“I’m not a fucking hotel room,” he grunts. 

“I’m not saying you are, it’s just an example. Jesus.” 

“Still, I cannot accept it,” he says, firm.

“Sho-san, this isn’t up for debate,” Matsumoto-san replies patiently, “You earned that money, end of discussion,” 

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“You will,” Matsumoto-san murmurs back, and the tone of his voice changes again – Sho can’t tell how he’s doing it, but the way Matsumoto-san mutters each syllable is like fire igniting every cell in his body and he’s never strong to resist _it_ – to resist _him_. “You will, Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san continues, as if he hasn’t even preempted himself. “and I intend to do exactly that once I’m free, which is, sadly, not today; stop arguing with me because it’s not healthy, not for you and certainly not for me. Just think of that money as a sort of advance payment for what’s to come, because I assure you, I fully intend on getting my money’s worth,”

Sho’s body trembles in delicious anticipation, finds that he no longer had the strength to argue, much more to fight, as he slumps ungracefully down the floor. 

“So save up on all the energy because you’ll be needing it,” Matsumoto-san purrs in his ear and Sho thinks the other man could very well ask him anything right now and he’ll do it. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re not going to be able to walk properly for days, then I’m going to do it again, and again, and again,” 

“God,” 

“ _You’re_ mine, Sho-san,” _there_ – the words Sho is dying to hear, but he finds that he doesn’t have the courage, nor the strength to ask Matsumoto-san what the hell it means because the other man is speaking again. “Mine, no one else’s – you hear me? I’m not going to allow anyone to touch you, and if it means shelling out all my money just to do that, then so  be it,” 

“Matsumoto-san, I –“ 

“Rest for now and I’ll call you once I’m free,” he hears him say, clear but soft, and Sho knows he’s got it bad for the other man although he’s not sure when it happened. “And expect it soon,” Matsumoto-san follows, his tone wanting, “because I’m not going to make it another week without fucking you, so be ready when I call you,”

“I -- what?“

“Bye for now, Sho-san,”

_Click._

 

 

“Fuck,” he hisses, and knows that no matter what happens now, he’s truly and undeniably fucked.

 

 

 

 


	9. See it from someone else's eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just don’t get it,” he grumbles, fingers hastily working on his tie at the same time the door to the dressing room opens and Ohno gracefully walks in, face void with anything and wearing nothing except – a tie around his neck that stupidly resembles that of Sho’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone made an appearance. surprised? don't be :D

“I just don’t get it,” he grumbles, fingers hastily working on his tie at the same time the door to the dressing room opens and Ohno gracefully walks in, face void with anything and wearing nothing except – a tie around his neck that stupidly resembles that of Sho’s. 

Sho’s mouth goes dry at the sight, briefly wondering when Ohno has developed some kind of bionic hearing when Ohno asks him exactly what he just asked himself seconds before.

“Don’t get what?” is what came out from Ohno’s mouth while Sho is busy averting his eyes, because no matter how many times he’s seen the older man naked after every performance, it doesn’t make it any less surprising to see Ohno’s junk and compare its massive size with his. 

It doesn’t help that despite the fact that Ohno’s not erect, and his cock is hanging limply, swaying with his every movement while he walks towards his own changing space, it’s not enough to tamp down Sho’s subtle wondering how the hell Ohno’s packing that thing inside his pants and still managing to walk properly. 

“Hey, quit staring at my dick, that’s rude,” Ohno says around a lazy grin and Sho contemplates between throwing him his hair dryer and stalking off if only to avoid getting piss over something not worth getting pissed about. It’s not Ohno’s fault that he finds staring at the other man’s dick a very worth-it distraction before he goes back to thinking about his still very much MIA client, instead of drinking his frustration away like those others he knows. 

“I’m not staring at your dick,” he mumbles, face red, watching Ohno through his mirror as Ohno slumps down on his stool without bothering putting his pants on. 

“You totally were,” Ohno says, reaching for a bottled water and then putting it back down again when he realized it’s empty. “ – and still is,” he says, then, “Guess you’ve got something on your mind again, huh?” 

Sho’s brows arch. “Eh?” 

“Well, you always do that when you want to be distracted,” Ohno tells him, shifting to face him and reaching for his discarded shirt then pulling it over his head, foregoing his pants; Sho tries tracking his movements but his gaze keeps going back to Ohno’s junk and nuts, feeling like a damn pervert for doing so. “It’s like you made a habit of staring at my dick when you don’t want to think of other things, am I right?” 

“Are you a fucking psychic or what?” he grits, amuse. 

 “Maybe – maybe not; maybe you’re just easy to read, and maybe because I always catch you talking to yourself, like a few minutes ago when I came in,” 

“I’m not going to talk to you about things that are on my mind with your dick hanging out in the open like that – _that_ – that is fucking distracting; put some pants on, asshole,” 

Ohno’s smile, like the man himself, is slow on the uptake but breathtaking to watch when it showed on his face, the same way when he’s performing. No one could say that Ohno’s the same guy when he’s not on stage because despite being so fucking hot and amazing while he’s performing, Ohno tends to look lazy and sleepy when he’s not. It’s probably the size of his eyes or the way his lips curl lazily at the edges, thus making him look younger than his age, but Sho thinks it is probably because of Ohno’s cherub-shaped face. It also must be one of the many reasons why most of Ohno’s clients are either older women, or middle-aged men. 

“Ah ah, see, you’re doing it again,” Ohno tells him, “is my existence really that distractingly effective? I wonder if I can use it –“ 

“God, for someone who looks like he’s going to fall asleep on his face anytime, you sure say the weirdest things,” he groans, wonders when he started liking this co-worker of his, not just because he likes staring at his dick but because the other man sure knows when to keep his mouth shut or when to help get Sho’s mind off of the things he really doesn’t want to think about. 

“Are you saying my existence is weird?” Ohno says, feigning hurt, “Don’t let my Mom or my favorite client hear you say that, because I’m telling you, they won’t like it,” 

“I’m not saying you’re – you know what, let’s just forget about this,” he says, waving a hand. “Go put some pants on because as much as I like watching you parade around with your dick swaying in the air like that, I’ve got things to do – like, you know, work?” 

“Finally admitting you like watching me parade around naked, cool,” Ohno says, bending over to grab his boxers which probably fell on the floor when he retrieved his shirt. “But that still didn’t answer the question as to why you want to be distracted; and what was that you’re saying about you _not getting it_ when I came in?” 

He heaves a sigh and crosses his arms over his chest, leans back against the edge of his dresser as he watches Ohno twirl his boxer briefs around his fingers, watching him as he watches Ohno. 

“You know that guy who took me out on my first night here?” he asks, gaze lost in front of him.

Ohno tilts his head in affirmation. “Um, yeah? The same guy who keeps popping in every night thereafter – and, come to think of it, has been missing for quite a long time now, too,” he nods at this, and Ohno follows, brows furrowed, “So, what’s up with him?” 

He blinks. “Well, you know the reason why I’m literally not allowed to accept any customers?” 

“Yeah?” 

“The guy paid a crapload of money to reserve me,” he says, shifting his gaze to Ohno’s face and watches the myriad of emotions passing through Ohno’s face -- until he settles for one Sho oddly recognizes. 

“Oh, that’s –“ Ohno pauses here, fingers stilling until his boxers falls back down on the floor but he doesn’t make a move to pick it back up. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. 

“That’s going to be a fucking problem,” Ohno breathes and if Sho doesn’t already know that, well then, fuck. 

He finds himself scrubbing a palm over his face and wonders if quitting is an option, but no, because putting the signed contract aside, he doesn’t think he’d even want to – not now, at least, not after the talk they had earlier today and the way Matsumoto-san claimed to own him, and the way his inside clenched deliciously just by hearing those words as they left Matsumoto-san’s mouth.

“Well, I guess it’s only going to be a problem if you let it,” Ohno pipes in afterwards, taking Sho’s attention back to the conversation, “But by the looks of it, I think you already know what’s in it for you – you just don’t want to admit it yet,” 

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Ohno shrugs nonchalantly, eyeing him warily as he goes back to playing with his boxer briefs. 

“I mean, you sure don’t look like someone who hates being manipulated,” Ohno tells him, “and to be honest, I think you liked it – being restrained, or lead around -- though maybe to some extent,” 

Sho feels a headache coming and he turns around to retrieve his own bottled water from the other side of his dresser. Ohno still watches him, still naked from the waist down, mouth tilted upwards curiously. 

“I didn’t – I wasn’t thinking about _that_ , really,” he says, honestly perplexed because seriously, he never thought about all these as Matsumoto-san’s way of manipulating him. He was genuinely just thinking about the huge amount of money Matsumoto-san has shelled out just to make sure no one’s going to lay a hand on him while the other man isn’t around and how it’s like daytime robbery – at least for him since he hadn’t any work for him to earn the said money, then pegging it as one selfish request from a client rather than making it as something it’s not (though he couldn’t really help it), not letting his mind drift off and wonder about the other reasons as to why Matsumoto-san had to go that far just to keep him from seeing other customers, but now…

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, anger and something else swelling hotly inside his chest. 

Ohno makes an affirming sound at that. “It might not really that bad, if you ask me,” Ohno says, like an after-thought; he turns around in a rush to face the other man, looking genuinely surprised. “Well, putting the manipulative agenda aside, don’t you think it’s kind of oddly sweet for someone to pay a whole fucking lot of money just to make sure no one’s going to able to drill your ass while he’s not around to do the drilling himself?” 

He snorts. “I don’t really want to say this but, are you like, talking to me about this based from first-hand experience?” 

Ohno throws him a wink that could very well be interpreted as many things, but Sho could be wrong, of course. 

“I wish,” Ohno says, though his eyes are smiling, “Between the older women and middle-aged, closet gays as clients, I don’t think there’s much hope for me, but anyway, we’ll never know, yeah? Maybe one of these days, I’ll get lucky,” 

Sho’s about to say something when the door opens, and Nakai peeks in with a scowl. 

“Sakurai, you’re up in five,” Nakai bristles, gaze shifting to Ohno and immediately, as if on cue, Nakai’s scowl deepens. “OHNO, HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STOP PARADING YOUR SKINNY BUTT AROUND THE DRESSING ROOM? AM I SPEAKING IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE THAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, HUH?” 

Ohno grins, looking unnerved; he even spreads his thighs apart and continues twirling his boxers briefs, paying his fuming senpai no mind. 

“Good evening to you too, Nakai,” 

“THAT’S NAKAI-SAN FOR YOU, ASSHOLE!” Nakai half-yells, then, “Oh, and before I forget – because seeing your face always riles me up – someone is stupid enough to ask for you so put some fucking pants on and get your butt out of there and do some fucking work,” he says, leaving as fast as he came in, still grumbling incoherent curses under his breath. 

“That guy hates you,” Sho states the obvious, and gets a genuinely loud laughter in return as Ohno quickly puts on his boxers before grabbing for his pants. “Am I going to be let on in the secret, or --?”

Ohno waves him off with a shrug. “Oh, don’t worry there’s nothing much to tell,” Ohno says, going straight to the door. “That old guy once confessed to me and I turned him down – never got around the humiliation so the professed love turned into something even more beautiful – _hatred_ – you haven’t seen the best of him yet, and I really hope you’d stick around long enough to see it,” Ohno tells him as he reaches the door. “Well, see you after your performance, then,” 

“Maybe,” he agrees, “maybe not, if that client ends up taking you home instead,”

Ohno gives him a thumbs up at that. “Wish me luck, then,” he says, closing the door behind him before Sho could even say anything else. 

“Best of luck,” he mutters to himself and prepares to go up on stage.


	10. Dare you to say 'No'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s in the middle of grinding his crotch in front of a customer’s face when a movement far off from the stage caught his attention, his gaze going past the crowd of cooing men (and a few women) only to find himself staring at the eyes of the man who literally rocked his world the minute he met him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRY.

He’s in the middle of grinding his crotch in front of a customer’s face when a movement far off from the stage caught his attention, his gaze going past the crowd of cooing men (and a few women) only to find himself staring at the eyes of the man who literally rocked his world the minute he met him. 

He’s pretty sure everything around him stills – the air, the crowd of people, his heartbeat – and he’s barely aware of the fact that the customer whose face he’s grinding his crotch against now has his arms wrapped around his ankles and is licking his navel like a hungry animal. 

It’s not until he realized the man he’s having a staring battle with has left his usual seat and is trekking the way towards the main stage, his jaw set and his eyes burning with rage, that everything sort of started moving again, his pulse quickening at the realization that he’s the one who brought such expression on the other man’s face, is the reason why he’s probably about seconds away from hauling the filthy bastard wrapped around him like a limpet, and it makes his insides contract in ways he has never felt before. 

“Break it up, shithead,” Bouncer-san gets to him before the other man does and Sho will lie if he’ll say he’s not disappointed; the guy sure looks like he’s considering murdering the drunk bastard he’s grinding up against moments before, and really, that’d be one hell of a sight he doesn’t mind watching, would probably take the first row seat if possible to do so. 

But his thoughts are shifting continuously to the fact that no matter how far the distance is, Matsumoto-san sure knows how to make his presence known, is perfectly capable of grabbing Sho’s attention even when he’s busy doing something else. 

He raises his head in time to see Matsumoto-san slapping his phone to his ear, as another bouncer come strolling by, collaring the drunken guy who’s making a not-so-very successful attempt at mouthing Sho’s cock through his stylishly ripped jeans with ease, the newly-arrived bouncer’s muscled hands hauling the guy up by his shirt before they head towards the exit. 

It’s unfair, really, for his body to react the way it is reacting now, watching the way Matsumoto-san’s mouth work as he speaks on whoever the hell he is speaking to, and quietly appraising Matsumoto-san’s arresting personality even though he’s hardly doing anything, and just standing there, probably a few feet away from Sho and from the main stage but Sho could feel the other man’s scrutinizing gaze as if his whole body is perfectly attuned to Matsumoto-san’s every move wherever he may be. 

“Performance time’s up, Sakurai,” Bouncer-san tells him gruffly, a muscled arm shooting out to grab him by the wrist and he realized he’s being escorted out of the main stage, his protests melting in his throat the moment he looks up and realizes Matsumoto-san is gone and he is staring at the empty space he’s just standing at seconds before. The journey from the main stage towards the dimly-lighted hall is another blurry affair, his thoughts going back to the memory of Matsumoto-san’s grave face as he talked with someone on his phone. 

The next thing he knew, he is being shoved into one of Taichi-san’s private rooms, Bouncer-san locking the door behind him and leaving Sho gaping at the semi-darkness that suddenly surrounded him.

He takes the few steps towards the door and is not at all surprised to find it securely locked.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, angry at himself and to that one person who pisses him more than he should, that one person he surely feels entirely comfortable being with and yet could bring out emotions in him he never knew existed. 

“Oh no, you haven’t seen what hell truly is, but I’m seriously tempted to show you a little glimpse of it right now if only to prove my point, “ a voice spoke from behind him and he doesn’t even need to turn around to know who it is, bracing himself and blinking, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness as he hears the sounds of the other man’s quiet footsteps as he walks towards him.

“With that stunt you did back there, you’re lucky I did not consider fucking you in front of those many people,” came the additional threat, and Sho knows he’s certainly a little fucked up in the head because instead of wanting to turn around or run away as fast as he could from the man threatening him, he finds himself turned on to the point of pain.

“Point?” he hisses, not bothering turning around and thus giving himself away in the process. His fingers are shaking something bad, so are his knees, but he’s not about to give Matsumoto-san the satisfaction of seeing him like this, his resolve weakening and his insides trembling just with the thought of having Matsumoto-san standing not even a few feet away from him.

“Yes,” Matsumoto-san hisses back, and his voice sounded nearer, clearer, and Sho has to brace himself from the oncoming rage. “I already said this before, and though I don’t make it a habit of repeating myself, I will do it just for you, Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san bites out through tightly clenched teeth, and the tone of his voice is doing strange things to Sho’s body without him realizing it. 

“You’re mine,” Matsumoto-san breathes, and Sho’s hyper-aware of the other man’s heated gaze at the back of his neck; “and no one is allowed to touch anything that belongs to me, do you understand?” 

“I don’t belong to anyone,” he bites back, “not to you, and not to anyone else like you who think paying shitloads of money means it’s giving them the right to own people,”

A beat, and the next time Sho blinks, he is backed against the nearest wall, one of Matsumoto-san’s hands grabbing both his and lifting them above his head, and the other he has wrapped around Sho’s neck, tight but still not tight enough to hurt. 

One of his knees has subtly moves to rest in between Sho’s legs, feeling his way up to Sho’s crotch and grinding, while he breathes warm breathes against the skin of Sho’s cheek.

“Then tell me what I need to do to have you all for myself,” Matsumoto-san whispers, and Sho finds himself shocked at the desperation marring the other man’s usually confident tone, frozen in place and unable to comprehend what the fuck Matsumoto-san meant by it when their gazes met in the middle, and Sho’s heart starts thumping crazily inside his chest. 

Matsumoto-san’s expression betrays the confident grip he has on Sho, his eyes bearing the meaning of the words he uttered moments before. 

“W-What –“ 

“Tell me how and I’d do it,” Matsumoto-san grits firmly, though the look in his eyes are nothing but pleading. “Because it drives me fucking crazy thinking about those other people touching you – kissing you, fucking you – it’s killing me, Sho-san, because yes, I know I don’t have any right to stop them, to stop you but it’s this or I’ll end up murdering anyone who comes close to even breathing your name, who would even dare lay their fingers on you because I can’t – I don’t even want to imagine that. So tell me -- just tell me what you need and I’ll do it, Sho-san,” 

Sho reels in shock, mouth agape as he files every word in, while wondering what in hell crawled up inside Matsumoto-san’s ass and died, which led him to say stupid and crazy things as if...  

“Yes,” Matsumoto-san breathes, mouth tilting down and gaze averting, but his grip around Sho remains tightly tender. “I know it’s crazy, and I know it’s going to be wholly difficult for you to believe it but –“ 

Everything stops as he stares into Matsumoto-san’s eyes, and Sho is sure his heart stops beating too. 

“I’m in love with you,”

 

 

 


	11. Momentary Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s scared because _this_ – this is the first thing he’d been taught to avoid – emotional attachments to clients has been on top of the forbidden list, something that’s never been tolerated, and though he never once thought he’d someday end up harboring such forbidden feelings to someone who pays him to fuck him, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter!

“You can’t be fucking serious,” he hisses, his throat dry; it feels like his voice and his ability to think coherent thoughts is suddenly robbed off from him, staring at the other man like he’s crazy. There’s a rueful twist in his gut when the man meets his gaze, his stomach vaulting to the ground as the reality of it all slashes through the surface, seeing something akin to longing, fondness and something even deeper painted clearly across the other man’s face. Sho suddenly finds himself fervently wishing he’s just imagining it, fisting his hands to his sides as realization rushes in like a riptide. 

“Oh my god, _you_ are,” he mutters under his breath as he watches the way the other man is trying his level best to keep his emotions reined in, but is seriously failing. It’s in the way he’s gripping Sho’s elbow as if he’s afraid Sho will vault the minute he let go, and Sho will lie if he say he’s not equally scared and giddy – but mostly terrified at the implication of all these, of the meaning behind the other man’s forceful stares and gentle but possessive grip.

He’s scared because _this_ – this is the first thing he’d been taught to avoid – emotional attachments to clients has been on top of the forbidden list, something that’s never been tolerated, and though he never once thought he’d someday end up harboring such forbidden feelings to someone who pays him to fuck him, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t. 

Because he’s pretty sure -- what with the way his heart is hammering hard in his chest, the way Matsumoto-san’s stare is enough to melt his fear and change it into something he wouldn’t dare say aloud -- that he’s also in way too deep in this that it’s bordering insane. But it doesn’t mean he has to give in, knows that between the two of them, someone has to be strong enough to resist this pull before they end up drowning each other with the force of it. 

It’s difficult enough to be standing this close to the man without wanting to put his hands around him, the urge to bury his nose against the pulsing vein at the center of the man’s throat is too strong he has to bite down the urge before it slips through his defenses the way he knows he should. 

And God, he’s not even the one who has stupidly admitted his feelings as if it’s going to make a difference, because it won’t, not in this lifetime, never. 

He tugs himself away from Matsumoto-san’s vice-like grip, shaking himself out from the temporary daze the man always puts him into when he’s near. “Let go of me,” he breathes evenly, calm despite the brewing storm of emotions this man has stirred in him, “I said let go of me, Matsumoto-san,” 

The man retaliates by tightening his grip around his wrists, staring him down as if he’s contemplating between fighting him off and letting him be. 

The latter won and Sho would be lying if he’d say he’s not slightly disappointed. Slight might even be an understatement for what he feels, but he’s not that stupid to say it out loud, not really. He knows how these things work and really, he’s way out of his head if he thinks there’s even the slightest chance that relationships between a hooker and his client could exist outside of the real world and if it does, well then, shit. 

He huffs out an almost hysterical snort 

“I know – I k-know it’s a lot to take in but if you could only –“ Matsumoto-san says or at least starts to before he has to cut himself midway, running his fingers through his hair, giving Sho the leeway he desperately needed. 

“I’m not going to do anything aside from telling you to shut the fuck up,” he says, firm despite this huge, unsettling feeling that he’s about to do something so very wrong, meeting the other man’s gaze and taking a firm step back as he does so. “You want someone to fuck? a nice, tight ass to shove your dick in, that’s fine -- I’m very much willing to bend over for you, make each time maybe twice as good as the last, but that’s it; I don’t ever want to hear you talking about feelings, or that thing you just said or you have better find a new guy to scratch your itch for you,” 

“S-Sho-san –“

“And I don’t care about your agreement with this fucking club’s owner – I don’t care if you’d rather shell out your wealth instead of keeping it safe just to book me, but I’m telling you that from now on, no one’s reserving anybody. If you want to keep fucking me, do it by the book – be here and do it yourself; if you aren’t here and someone wants to take me home, you and your fucking money’s not going to stop me or anyone who wants to take me home with them,” he grits, careful not to let anything slip by as he watches the myriad of emotions pass through Matsumoto-san’s pretty face.   

“Now,” he says, holding out a hand, palms spread as he watches Matsumoto-san slowly takes his words in, feeling something inside him crack when the man lowers his gaze and his shoulders slump in some semblance of defeat. “You want to fuck, let’s get out of here, otherwise I’ll walk out of that door and find someone else to entertain – your choice, Matsumoto-san,” 

Silence, and it is deafening that Sho immediately hates it – hates the way Matsumoto-san’s eyes is clouded with so many emotions Sho doesn’t need to classify because he knows, he has them too, biting on his tongue and catching himself short of taking everything back if only to erase that miserable look he himself put on Matsumoto-san’s face. 

He takes another step back. A ruse, a test. 

Matsumoto does too, arm shooting out to grab him and Sho’s heart swells painfully in his chest, wishes he could grab the other man back and tell him its fine, tell him they’re in this together.

But he couldn’t and that’s all there is to it. 

“What now?” he grumbles and makes a big show of making his expression as bored as he could make it. 

“I –“ Matsumoto-san stutters, a rare feat indeed, and Sho’s throat constricts painfully at the thought that he’s the reason for it, “ – will you come home with me tonight, Sho-san? or should I personally talk to your manager and book you –“ he stops Matsumoto-san with a wave of his hand. 

“There’s no need for that,” he says, jerking his thumb behind him, “I bet Taichi-san’s in this with you anyway so why bother. Let’s just go,” he mumbles, turning around with all the intention of heading straight towards to the door. 

Only to be stopped by a pair of warm arms wrapping him from behind. 

“W-Wha –“

“I’m giving you this chance and this night as a sort of free pass, but it doesn’t mean you’ve already won, Sho-san; I’m going to give you something to think about tonight, and I hope it will be enough to change your mind,” Matsumoto-san tells him, lips pressed against the side of his jaw, holding him close, soft and tender and Sho’s heart aches at the sweet torture of Matsumoto-san’s voice caressing the skin Matsumoto-san’s lips is pressed against. “You caught me off-guard this time – enjoy it because I promise you never will again, Sho-san. You’re naïve if you think I’m going to give up control just to chase you, just to have you, but maybe I will, for now, just this once.” Matsumoto-san presses on, and Sho’s heart thuds, his body shivers.

“Nothing you say and do will change my mind or the reality of what we are, Matsumoto-san, so forget it,” he bites back, feigning bravery; he doesn’t need to go on a full scale explanation as to why falling for him is nothing but bad news because he doesn’t have to – their worlds are completely different and not even the fact that Matsumoto-san claimed to feel something for him beyond what Sho knows is allowed could change the reality that the two of them could never be together. 

Matsumoto-san huffs a challenging breath into the side of his neck and Sho swears it is enough to send his nerves into a tingling frenzy, anticipation building up as Matsumoto-san presses himself into his back, his cock hard and pulsing through the layers of clothing separating them.

Then Matsumoto-san has his earlobe caught in between the other man’s soft lips, tugging at the sensitive flesh gently that the sensation goes straight to Sho’s cock, biting his lips hard enough to keep himself from moaning his consent as Matsumoto-san grinds his hips behind him, letting him feel his arousal and the evidence of his desire through the sultry movement. 

“Let’s see about that, Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san says and it is a promise as much as it is a threat, and Sho knows that tonight they’re both going to fight for it – defiance for his part and control for Matsumoto-san’s.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just kidding :D see you guys in two months!


	12. Royal Rumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, hi?

“Had enough?” Matsumoto-san asks, his breathe damp and warm and Sho wants to tell him off, beg him to stop the teasing but knows that he shouldn’t; he promised himself never to say anything that would further complicate things between them. He knows this because complication always starts whenever people say something they don’t really mean, especially when said things are announced while the speaker’s brain is currently on the gutter.

 

He bites his bottom lip and lets his grip tighten around the doorframe where Matsumoto-san has him pinned, his back facing the other man as Matsumoto-san’s cock leisurely slips in and out of him.

 

Matsumoto-san barks a tiny laugh against the nape of his neck and Sho feels his frustration build up along with the desire to touch any part of Matsumoto-san, his knuckles turning white in his attempt not to give in to that urge.

 

“I’m not going to fucking say it,” he mutters, bucking back to Matsumoto-san’s thrust that the action brings Matsumoto-san’s cock deeper to where he badly wants him, closer to that spot he knows Matsumoto-san is deliberately trying to avoid. “So if you think you have the stamina to keep going until I fall asleep on my face, then be my guest,” he says, but the words barely slip his tightly gritted teeth.

 

Matsumoto-san leans forward to bite the underside of his right ear, one hand reaching down to take him, squeezing him tight.

 

“I admire your strength,” Matsumoto-san whispers, and then Sho’s brain nearly shuts off by itself when Matsumoto-san flicks his wrist in time with the perfect snap of his hips; he thinks he’s just about to collapse, seeing stars when the head of Matsumoto-san’s cock graces that spot inside him that has him shaking within seconds, the double assault is nearly enough to have him choking in pleasure.

 

“Fucking – ahh, fuck!” he half-yells, burying his face against his forearms as Matsumoto-san starts fucking him earnestly, his thrusts twice as harder and the movement of his hand against Sho’s cock twice as faster.

 

“Yeah, yeah –“ Matsumoto-san mutters into the back of his neck, one hand gripping his hips for support; Sho’s no longer thinking, the pleasure overriding everything, his common sense, his fucking control and the only thing that matters is the feel of Matsumoto-san’s cock sliding in and out of him, the way Matsumoto-san’s hand is fisting his cock the way his mouth normally would when Matsumoto-san is sucking him.

 

Sho wonders if this is how it feels while you’re in free fall, throwing his head back as the oncoming surge of pleasure hits him hard and fast, and lights exploding behind his eyelids the minute his orgasm breaks, and everything spills in between the door and Matsumoto-san’s hand.

  

 

 

 


	13. That thin line he shouldn't have crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing he remembered was Matsumoto-san fucking him like there was no tomorrow, and then passing out the minute he came his brains out, and that was it. He was not sure what had happened after that, how he ended up in someone else’s bed but he surely wouldn’t know if he’s not going to check, would he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short short update :D

He was not sure how he ended up somewhere that surely didn’t look like he was still inside one of Taichi-san’s private rooms, the same room where he’d been nailed against the door like a common whore.

But well, come to think of it, that’s exactly what he is.

He blinked the sleepiness away, then stiffened when he realized he was actually lying on his side on a mattress, a very expensive one at that judging with the way it was hugging his body like a lover. It was so comfortable that he felt like closing his eyes again, to chase that sleepy spell back when a shapely arm shot out from somewhere and it somehow ended up thrown across his waist – his very much naked waist, followed by the sounds of someone’s murmurs.

He stilled. Where the fuck was he?

The last thing he remembered was Matsumoto-san fucking him like there was no tomorrow, and then passing out the minute he came his brains out, and that was it. He was not sure what had happened after that, how he ended up in someone else’s bed but he surely wouldn’t know if he’s not going to check, would he?

But before he even managed to turn, the person who was clearly spooning him from behind had leaned in closer to nuzzle the back of his neck, and he bit back a gasp when the familiar scent of Matsumoto-san’s aftershave assaulted his senses.

“Don’t go,” Matsumoto-san murmured, his voice husky and muffled, and Sho could bet that the other man was dreaming. “I’ve waited so long for you – don’t – don’t leave me,”

He stiffened, kept himself perfectly still as the other man began to shake, the spot where he had his face buried against was beginning to feel damp. Sho’s chest tightened and something other than his repulsion over this was slowly beginning to take its place, this fondness he couldn’t quite remember when he had started feeling.

He shut his eyes and allowed the other man to hold him, let him cry his emotions without letting him know he was awake to witness it. He remembered the other man’s threat the night before, what he said about not giving up control no matter what, about who would win between the two of them.

But right now, as Matsumoto-san cried in his sleep, holding him close and calling out his name while he tried his best not to cry himself, to not turn around inside Matsumoto-san’s arms and kiss Matsumoto-san awake, he was not sure who won.

But honestly, he didn’t think it still mattered. 

Not when he was in this too deep as well, maybe worst than what Matsumoto-san was feeling, possibly way fucked up than he initially thought he’d ever be over someone who was only paying him for a good lay.

Shit.

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Only one way out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He takes you home, fucks you in his bed and holds you afterwards; not to mention the fact that he’s depositing money in your account even when he’s not screwing you,” his bestfriend states, calm as if he’s simply talking about the fucking weather and sipping on his beer thoughtfully, “If those aren’t cue enough, I don’t think there’s any hope for you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short one :D

“He takes you home, fucks you in his bed and holds you afterwards; not to mention the fact that he’s depositing money in your account even when he’s not screwing you,” his bestfriend states, calm as if he’s simply talking about the fucking weather and sipping on his beer thoughtfully, “If those aren’t clue enough, I don’t think there’s any hope for you,” 

He chokes on absolutely nothing, covering it by coughing lightly into his fist. “I – what the hell am I supposed to do?” he asks because really, this is getting too frustrating already and it’s not even the half of it. What bothers him is the fact that he’s allowing it, that he’s doing nothing to stop this thing from spiraling into something that is even more complicated.

“You’re falling in love with the guy,” his bestfriend tells him, apropos of nothing and he thinks his jaw just hits the floor with the way he’s gaping at the other man. “Or maybe you’re already there. I’m not sure about the guy though because he’s sure isn’t up to using words to confirm anything –“ well, that isn’t true, is it? Because Matsumoto-san clearly told him – confessed – that he’s in love with him, complicating this thing, whatever the hell this is between them even more. “-- what with the fact that he’s treating you like you’re his very own girlfriend, or boyfriend, whatever,”

“He’s not – I mean, he doesn’t –“

“Oh, so you’re going with that?” the other man says, looking exasperated, if anything, “Denying it isn’t going to make things easier, Sho-chan, and you know it; I told you _that_ job is going to drive you up walls but you didn’t listen to me. People who takes jobs like that knows how to separate their emotions in order for them to avoid getting too attached to people they’re working with. Because in the end, it all boils down to the fact that you’re not merely anything to them but a merchandise they can buy when they want you, and throw you away when they’re done with you,”

He looks down, swallowing the urge to scrub a palm over his face as he murmurs, “This is all your fucking fault,” in a tone so miserable he doesn’t even know if it was really him who was talking.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” his bestfriend says, sounding anything but amused; “why do you think I left that job in the first place? Sure, the pay is good and the working hours is flexible; I just – oh well, I’m no different from you, afterall,”

“What the fuck did you mean by that?”

The other man shrugs. “I left because I fell in love,” he says, “and I think you’re considering that option, too, am I right?”

“Seriously, Nino?”

The man grins though his eyes remained distant, aloof. “Let me tell you a story, Sho-chan,”

 

+++

 

The second his words are out his mouth, Taichi-san gapes at him as if he’s just miraculously grown two heads.

“No no no no, you can’t be serious,”

He shrugs. “As a matter of fact, I am,” he says, “I’m just telling you beforehand because I don’t want to create problems for you, which I’m not sure there won’t be any once I leave,” he says, addressing the issue as if he’s simply narrating the contents of his breakfast, completely straight-faced.

Taichi-san still looks marginally shock, though he couldn’t really blame the guy; it’s just that, well, he’s thought about this over and over, most especially after the talk he had with his bestfriend and really, there’s no better way to solve this quickly-growing problem than to just run off and hopes it doesn’t follow him wherever he decides to go.

“But but but –“

“Taichi-san, please don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he says, calmly, even though he’s already starting to feel the strain of having his employer breathing down his neck, of his one and only customer’s furious face when he realizes he is gone.

Taichi-san grunts, then slumps back on his seat as if he’s lost all of his remaining strength. “Sakurai, no, you can’t just –“

“Quit?” he cuts in, “Of course I can,” he continues, “there’s nothing in my contract that says I’m not allowed to quit; it’s there, do you want me to point it out for you to see?”

The older man slumps further into his seat and Sho would have felt bad for him if he’s not feeling sorry for himself as well; it is stupid to feel that way and that is why he needs to stop this now before everything goes out of hand.

“Matsumoto-san is going to ki –“

“He won’t,” he says, “he’s not like that; and even if he considers killing you, that’s no longer my problem, is it? And he might probably ask you where I am, which I’m pretty sure he will, so I don’t think he’s going to consider murder unless he is sure you don’t know anything,”

“Are you going to tell me?” Taichi-san asks, suddenly sounding more alert.

“No,” he returns, “How stupid do you think I am? I’m quitting because of that guy, and you want me to tell you where he can find me?” he bites back, huffing out an amused laughter, because really, what the hell?

“If he’s not going to kill me, then he’d probably try and bankrupt me, I’m sure of it,” Taichi-san moans pathetically as he hands over his keys, his ID, and everything that belongs to Taichi-san, which pretty much sums up to a few things.

“Not my problem anymore,” he grumbles under his breath as he stands up and goes straight for the door.


	15. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude, just because <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part will be posted tomorrow. I promise :D

He’d be lying if he’d say he wasn’t expecting this.

 

He listens, though not intently because as much as he wants to pay attention to what the other man is frantically saying on the other line, he is also feeling this huge urge to throw everything away and leave his fucking office all at once.

 

He doesn’t, though, because he knows his patience is going to be rewarded, maybe not now but soon. Still, it doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to feel this way, the agitation growing every fucking second he’s allowing Sho to move freely on his own, as far away as Sho thought he could from him as possible even though he’s this close to tracking him right now just to know where exactly Sho is at the moment.

 

But he holds himself back because he knows that’s the right thing to do. He might be in love with the other man but that doesn’t give him the right to keep pushing himself right into the man’s space, right into his life without letting the man get use to the idea of having him around, even though that’s just what he wanted.

 

And it’s difficult, really, to be this patient when all he ever wanted is to keep the man as close to him as possible, give him everything he wants and more. It’s hard because though he wants to keep Sho to himself, he doesn’t expect the other man to give in so easily despite the fact that he’s pretty much bared his heart and soul to him the way he hasn’t done to anyone that came before him.

 

Sho probably hasn’t realized it but it doesn’t mean that he, too, hasn’t yet because he does – he knows. He’s in too deep that just the simple thought of letting the man out of his sight is torture, that thinking about other men touching Sho is enough to raise his ire without him realizing it. It’s so hard knowing what he wants and yet he couldn’t have it, knows that he’s at this point where Sho could ask him for anything and he’d travel the ends of the earth just so he could give it to him.

 

It’s fucked up, he knows that it is but that’s just how it is.

 

He’s in too deep the minute his gaze found Sho that night, burying him deeper the minute Sho nodded his head and smiled his way as if there hadn’t been anyone there but the two of them.

 

“He returned his keys and everything, Matsumoto-san, oh my god, please I – I really didn’t know he was going to quit, I swear to god!”

 

His chest aches where his heart throbs painfully underneath, barely paying attention to Taichi-san’s frantic voice on the other line. He could practically see it in his head, the way Sho came in looking the least worried about leaving his job, shoulders stiff and his back straight as he told his employer he wanted out.

 

The man is stubborn as much as he himself is, and for what it’s worth, he knows it is one thing that draws him to the other man like a moth to a flame.

 

And God, it’s been days since he last saw the other man, been days since he’s fucked the shit out of Sho and he can already feel it – the craving he only ever feels the minute he laid eyes on the man’s face, and the satisfaction only Sho could fill when he’s beneath him, squirming and calling his name as he pounds into the heat of Sho’s body.

 

He’s crazy about him, almost too much so that he could no longer think straight with the force of it all, the urge to have Sho every waking hour of his life is like a fucking disease he doesn’t think is going to be cured unless he’s sure Sho is his and his alone, forever.

 

“I had one of my guys followed him and he just called to say that Sakurai-san has just cancelled the lease for his apartment. The problem is, his landlord doesn’t know where he’s moving so, should I send my guy to follow –“

 

“Do that and you’ll be sorry,” he finds himself muttering, gritting his teeth when the other man starts sputtering apologies on the other end. “Just leave him be – ask your guy to stop following Sho-san around if you don’t want his dead body ending up floating in Tokyo bay. And don’t call me; our business is done and I no longer have any interest to keep dealing with you. Keep the rest of the money I have paid in advance as means of compensation for Sho-san quitting without finishing his contract. Goodbye.” He says and hangs up without giving the other man any chance to reply.

 

 

 


	16. Borderline Painful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost three weeks without Matsumoto-san’s touch was plain torture but he soldiers on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I wasn't able to post this yesterday. Had to go out and buy something for my friend's baby shower party :D
> 
> anyway, here it is :D

Almost three weeks without Matsumoto-san’s touch was plain torture but he soldiers on. 

He even managed to cancel the lease of his apartment without his landlord raising a fuss (the same way Taichi-san had), was able to move in with Nino the day after he quit his job and it’s at least a comforting (and honestly a little distracting) thought that no one from the Matsumoto-san camp has yet to bother him and his otherwise peaceful life since he left the club. 

It’s not like he is expecting one of Matsumoto-san’s people to abduct him when he least expected it (maybe, slightly but that’s understandable, he thinks) but after a week of complete silence, he wonders whether he just overreacted or something. 

It doesn’t help that he’s tremendously annoyed with himself everytime he sees his bankbook lying innocently on top of his dresser where he last kept it, as if it is mocking him for doing what he did just because his brain is a complicated thing and his thoughts are a mess. 

Nino told him he’s an idiot when he finally found the balls to tell his bestfriend all about Matsumoto-san, the words he heard straight from Matsumoto-san’s lips the last time he was with the other man. Nino was honestly baffled but it could be because his bestfriend was torn between punching him in the face for being so stupid or because Nino couldn’t believe it himself. 

He might be hooker but it isn’t like he’s been fucked by so many people before Matsumoto-san found and reserved him. The fact that Matsumoto-san had been the one and only customer he has since he started the job only complicates things even more. He told Nino this and Nino’s only response was ‘ _you truly are an idiot, Sho-chan’_ , so yeah, there’s not much help in there too. 

He’s fucked in the head, that much is obvious, because he can’t fucking think straight even when he’s alone to his thoughts. He blamed everything to Matsumoto-san, his confusion, his fears, all of it, just because he’s too much of a coward to face his own fucking feelings. 

In the end, he realizes he just ended up lying to Matsumoto-san and to himself by running off like a stupid dog with his tail hidden between his legs when he could have just told Matsumoto-san straight on what it was he was afraid of and the reason why he feels that way, too.   

Only he _can’t_ – he _couldn’t_ – not then, not now, maybe not ever; because it didn’t matter whether it felt right being there inside the warm cradle of Matsumoto-san’s arms if they couldn’t be together in the real world in the end. 

Well, forget the fact that he’s a hooker, letting himself fall in love to someone like Matsumoto-san is outright stupid, not to mention careless, and dumb and every single word that is synonymous to stupidity because that’s how it is. Because it doesn’t matter whether Matsumoto-san feels the same way for him, it never will, because of who and what they are. Their worlds are so far apart that the simple thought of Matsumoto-san crossing the distance between the two is scary all on its own and honestly, he’s never claimed to be brave or strong especially when it comes to things that involve emotions and feelings. 

Especially when said things are well on their way to fail before they even begin. 

It’s almost two am and yet he couldn’t sleep. He came home three hours ago from his part-time job in the convenience store near his and Nino’s shared apartment, but sleep still wouldn’t come. He had to go out and walk around for an hour, hoping to take his mind off of some things that has been bothering him, but it clearly isn’t working. 

He lets himself into his room quietly, careful not to make any noise as he’s not at all sure if Nino’s home already or not. His bestfriend works crazy hours and in a week since he’s moved in, he has only seen Nino twice, both in the morning when Nino’s just came home from work. 

He closes his door behind him and doesn’t bother taking his shirt off, throwing his socked feet up on the bed and heaving a sigh so deep it almost made him smile if not for the fact that he’s alone and is supposed to be thinking things over rather than grinning to himself like a crazy person. 

But come to think of it, it sure feels like he’s going to end up batshit insane either way if this stupidity continues, closing his eyes to the memory of Matsumoto-san’s warm body as the other man curled himself around him, Matsumoto-san’s cold lips pressed against the back of his neck. 

He let himself drift a little further, imagining Matsumoto-san next to him, warm and familiar and perfect, the way Matsumoto-san’s legs twined with his, the way they fit neatly against each other as if they’re each other’s half. He could deny it all he wants but here in the dark where no one else can see and hear his thoughts, he knows he misses Matsumoto-san so much that it’s borderline painful. 

He reaches up to curl his fingers against the front of his shirt, rubs the aching spot tenderly as if it will sooth the pain away. It doesn’t, and he turns in time for the tears to escape the corners of his eyes, muffling his sobs against his pillow as the pain increases tenfold. 

“So I was right,” someone speaks from somewhere and he finds himself jackknifing from the bed and landing a good few feet away from it as he squints at the shadows, his chest pounding hard as his eyes adjust to the darkness. It took his vision a few minutes more to adjust, gasps sharply when he’s finally able to spy the familiar silhouette of that person he’s just imagining a few minutes prior, eyes wide as he sees the man leans unmoving against the sole chair he has in his room, legs crossed and his back stiff. 

“A couple of weeks alone isn’t enough for you to get used to the feeling of not having me around, I presume,” the man says, low and gravely, though he could detect something else in his tone that he’s sure doesn’t have anything to do with the confidence coating his words. “If I had known you’d be crying yourself to sleep over missing me, I wouldn’t have resolved to wait even a whole fucking day just to follow you. But I thought you might need it, the space, the chance to breath away from me, from all these, the time to think things over so I held myself back, but I was wrong. My bad, Sho-san, I’m sorry, please forgive me,” the man says, before he steps out from the shadows and Sho could finally see the man’s face clearly. 

“M-Matsumoto-san?” 

The man raises his face and gives him a look that is part-wild, part-longing and a quarter hesitant. 

“Hello, Sho-san,” is the last thing he hears the other man say before he finds himself moving on autopilot, almost jumping the rest of the way to where Matsumoto-san is, fingers finding Matsumoto-san’s shoulders and holding on for dear life as Matsumoto-san’s mouth meets his halfway, sealing their lips together.

 

 

 

 


	17. Come out from the dark and into the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever shit he’s got on reserve before this, it all goes flying out the window the minute Matsumoto-san’s tongue met his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay /bows

Whatever shit he’s got on reserve before this, it all goes flying out the window the minute Matsumoto-san’s tongue met his.

 

He makes a noise that is part-awed, part-frustrated, fingers clawing at the collars of Matsumoto-san’s designer shirt with their mouths fused together. The kiss is dirty, made even dirtier with the fact that Matsumoto-san doesn’t bother with the niceties and has one hand grasping his jaw, forcing his mouth open before licking his way inside.

 

His chest is pounding hard, his dick seemingly suffering of the same fate as Matsumoto-san’s hand finds him, hard and aching, already slick at the tip; Matsumoto-san simply slipping his hand inside the waistband of his jeans and touching him.

 

“Oh,” a groan tears itself from the back of his throat, bucking back to the touch as Matsumoto-san pulls his mouth away from his if only to start sucking on his jaw.

 

There are so many things he knows they ought to talk about, but he’s mostly just thinking with his dick now more than anything else so there’s really no use in trying. His body’s acting on its own, reaching out to grab any part of Matsumoto-san he could reach and willing that still-coherent part of him to leave him be (at least for a little while longer) while he let Matsumoto-san fuck him till he could no longer think.

 

Then somehow they manage to undress each other without letting go of each other for more than a few seconds, his bare back hitting the mattress as Matsumoto-san’s equally naked body covers his.

 

“God, I –“ someone mutters and he barely recognizes his own voice – he was the one who was mumbling nonsensical things into Matsumoto-san’s hair, afterall – shaking all over at the feel of Matsumoto-san’s warmth sipping through his skin. Matsumoto-san’s touches are slow but deliberate, possessive but gentle and he feels entirely conflicted. He wants it fast, frantic and rough, but judging with the way Matsumoto-san keeps pulling himself away just to stare at his face, it’s clear that Matsumoto-san wants to take his time.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls, grabbing Matsumoto-san by his hair and pulling his face down for another kiss, catching Matsumoto-san’s lower lip in between his teeth and tugging, wants to speed things up if he could help it. The other man hisses, low and husky, and his dick twitch in response.

 

Matsumoto-san gently places a hand over his chest, pushing himself up using his other elbow for leverage and staring him down.

 

“Easy,” Matsumoto-san says, one hand still splayed against his chest, just to his breastbone where he knows Matsumoto-san can feel the way his heart is beating furiously hard underneath.

 

He turns his head sideways, eyes trained on the dark spot on the wall and wishes he could shy away from Matsumoto-san gaze but knows that he couldn’t. His body’s acting on its own, again, and he doesn’t know why Matsumoto-san chooses to slow down when he knows the other man is just here for a quick fuck (maybe). Of course he may have other reasons, but for the sake of his own sanity, he doesn’t bother checking them, as is the fact that Matsumoto-san is here when he shouldn’t be.

 

Well, that’s supposedly how things should be since the reason why he left his job was because of this man. But finding him here, in his own fucking bedroom when he’s at this certain point where every single part of him longs for this man’s touch?

 

It’s like a fucking miracle, only that it’s totally not.

 

“You _didn’t_ come here to take things _easy_ ,” he rasps out, mostly frustrated at the onslaught of too many emotions that this man can easily bring out of him. He reaches down in between their bodies, takes a hold of his cock and bucks back to his own hand touching him, arching his back and moaning. It’s a move he’s perfected by working the job he’s worked for months, knows that if anything, Matsumoto-san will take the bait and will probably just shut his mouth to fuck him instead.

 

“No,” is what Matsumoto-san says, batting his hand away from himself and replacing it with Matsumoto-san’s own. “I came here for you,”

 

“Not to fuck? Why, you always seem to know how to surprise me, Matsumoto-san,” he says, laughing mockingly though he wants nothing but to keep thrusting into that perfect tightness that is Matsumoto-san’s fist, a rumbling growl threatening to tear itself from the depths of his chest when Matsumoto-san all but swipes a thumb across his slit as he ducks down to press his mouth sloppily against his.

 

“Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san breathes his name, and his chest constricts at the way it sounded when it came out from Matsumoto-san’s mouth. He looks up and finds Matsumoto-san’s gaze trained at him, fierce and hungry.

 

There are plenty of unnamed emotions flitting across Matsumoto-san’s face, most of them he himself knows very well, but he ignores them, tries his hardest to keep his own feelings at bay if only to protect himself from what he knows will hurt him.

 

Matsumoto-san’s touches remain tender, the kisses he’s painting across his chest, his face, his neck, speak none of the things he badly wishes they mean; instead, everything Matsumoto-san does, now, tugs painfully at his heartstrings, and the bittersweet aftertaste of seeing everything he wants but knows he wouldn’t be able to get is slowly destroying the protective wall he’s built around himself eversince the day he met Matsumoto-san.

 

But he couldn’t give up now, can he? “Fuck me and let’s get this over with, or you can quit being coy and get the hell out of here. Your choice,”

 

In the next instant, Matsumoto-san has him pinned back down against the mattress, Matsumoto-san’s body a familiar weight draped over his and Matsumoto-san’s fingers grasping his jaw.

 

“We’ll get to that, I promise,” Matsumoto-san says, and the dark, sensual hunger returns full force when Matsumoto-san leans in and his soft lips brushes against the sensitive spot behind his ear. “But first –“ Matsumoto-san pauses here, tilts his face up until he is left with no choice but to look Matsumoto-san in the eye.

 

“Why are you doing this, Sho-san? Why are you making this harder than it has to be, when it’s pretty obvious that you want me as much as I want you?” Matsumoto-san asks, honestly baffling him, until he sees the comprehension on the other man’s face, probably mirroring that of his own.


	18. Down Under

It might have been so much easier to pretend that he doesn't know what the hell the other man is saying but he guesses it's only going to make things even more complicated. Of course he knows, he's not that dense nor he's not that stupid not to notice how serious this thing has become but in all honesty, he knows he's only going to entertain trouble if he lets this continue.  
  
Sure he likes Matsumoto-san -- god, he likes him too much, in fact, that being without him for days on end is torture. He knows he shouldn't have let this happen, shouldn't have let Matsumoto-san near him after weeks of denying himself the luxury of even letting himself think about the other man because he knows how this will end.   
  
It's his fault for kissing him, for letting his body take over when he knows he shouldn't, should have known how easily Matsumoto-san could manipulate his senses just by being there.  
  
He pushes himself upright, vainly trying to ignore the throbbing between his legs as he stands up. He also has to stop his gaze from straying from the sheets to Matsumoto-san's cock, standing hard and proud in between Matsumoto-san's own legs as he stoops down to grab his pants and putting it on with a little too much difficulty.  
  
"Sho-san --"  
  
"I'm not going to ask you how you found me but since you're not here to fuck," he grits out, pauses for a few seconds to allow himself some time to breath, holding his hand up and jerking a thumb towards the door. "I guess it's better for you to leave," he says, grateful that his voice sounded firm despite the fact that the rest of him is shaking.   
  
"Sho --"  
  
"You said it yourself, Matsumoto-san," he adds, not meeting Matsumoto-san's eyes and wishing the other man would stop doing this before he ends up driving himself into a wall for wanting someone he knows he doesn't have any right to want. "Don't make this harder than it has to be," he says, "Go and don't ever come back here. Leave me alone, for fuck's sake!"  
  
He doesn't even know how long it took but the next time he turns around, Matsumoto-san is no longer there.  
  
"Fuck," he curses, finds himself dropping on his knees and leaning against the foot of the bed, burying his face in his hands, muffling his sobs.


	19. Make believe

  
He’s not sure how long he’d been there, sobbing like a girl when Nino found him.  
  
It’s already hard enough convincing himself that he did the right thing, not when his everything hurts – his head, his chest, even his goddamn pride – which he is pretty sure is supposed to be rejoicing right now instead of mocking him and his stupidity, albeit quietly.   
  
He knows Nino is there, standing by his doorway even without hearing or seeing his friend – knows when Nino chooses to cross the small distance between the door to flopping down next to him just as quietly before he feels the tell-tale warmth seeping through Nino’s clothes when their shoulders touch.  
  
“You did this to yourself, I hope you know that,” Nino tells him, quietly, his friend’s tone missing its usual snark but he couldn’t find it in himself to be grateful, not when he’s in the middle of pulling himself together enough to stop the tears from humiliating himself even more. “And in other times I might have even considered recording this just so I’d have something to blackmail you when you’re being an ass but I think I’ll let this one pass,”  
  
He has all the intention to tell Nino to back off, to leave him the fuck alone but all that comes out are sounds close to whimper-like, his shoulders shaking something bad as another sob wretches itself from deep within his chest.  
  
“I don’t know what else I should say to you,” Nino follows through, as if he isn’t even bothered with the fact that he is sitting next to a sobbing, grown man. “Damn, Sho-chan, the man went through all that trouble finding you and what did you do? You let that stupid pride of yours get in the way instead of letting the man into your life, or at least let him talk you out of your stupid  _this-can-never-happen_ personal little bubble or maybe, allowed yourself to talk to him about your stupid fears and your stupid, stupid notion that you two could never be together because he happens to be rich – that the man had been born in luxury when you yourself were not --”  
  
“That’s not – it’s not like that, okay?” he responds with a little too much difficulty, his voice shaking no matter how much he tries to keep it even. Of course Nino has just hit the nail on the head but he’s not that stupid to let Nino think that it actually sums up everything, added with the fact that somehow, he feels entirely ashamed of himself for even thinking that maybe, possibly, there’s a chance for him and Matsumoto-san out here in the real world.   
  
But of course, those are all just wishful thinking.  
  
Nino bumps their shoulders together and hums. “You mean, that’s not all there is to it, right?” Nino says, “Of course I understand, it must be pretty difficult for you to allow yourself to believe that someone like that man is stupid enough to fall for you. But you know what, that’s the irony of life, Sho-chan – expect the unexpected, isn’t that right? If you ask me, I’d say that man is pretty serious and I can very well tell you that he’s pursuing you because he wants you for you. Forget the fact that you’re a hooker and he’s your client, because fuck, clichés or no clichés, you’re not the first hooker guy who had fallen in love with his client and you both aren’t the first and only people who had experienced this kind of shit and actually went for it. Think about it,”  
  
He already does, but what good would it do him? It will only make matters worse, will only make him want to keep his hopes up despite the fact that he knows how things will be in the end, anyway.  
  
“We’re two completely different people,” he says, knows that if anything, his voice sounds nothing but miserable. But Nino is right, he does this to himself and so he needs to live with it. “Living in two completely different worlds; and I don’t think there’s any other way for those worlds to meet, no matter how much we want it,”  
  
“God, you’re hopeless,” Nino chuckles, mock-punching him in the shoulder. “I would have told you to suck it up or maybe do something about it, meet him in the middle because I’m pretty sure he would have done the same thing if only you found the brains to ask him – I don’t know, do something about it yourself if that’s what you need to do to be happy but I guess there’s nothing I could have said that would have changed your mind, huh?”  
  
He thought about that, too, of course, has even went as far as imagining himself leaving his previous life to start over, meeting Matsumoto-san when he thought he’d never see the man again, like some fate or all that shit, and maybe, just maybe then they could make things right, start afresh. But even in his head, there are so many complications, things that kept on popping up to ruin the perfect life he had managed to build in his head and then somehow, he knows it’s never going to happen.   
  
So he just kind of gave up.  
  
“No,” he says, “I don’t think there’s anything you could have said that would have change this,”   
  
Nino stays silent for a little while longer until the other man stands up.  
  
“Well, I’ll leave you to wallow on it for a while,” Nino says, then, “just holler if you need anything. I’m free tomorrow and the next day if you want to drink the sorrows away,”  
  
He jerked his head and offered his friend a tiny smile.  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind,”  
  
Nino nods back. “I hope for your sake, you’re not considering killing yourself or I will surely revive you just so I could kill you myself,”  
  
He grins at that and throws Nino the finger. “Get out of here,”  
  
Nino simply shakes his head and gives him one last exasperated glance before he’s out the door.


	20. Have a little faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adding chapters here since this series has been completed way before.

He knows he’s not supposed to do this, knows that this means he’s clearly violating his friend’s self-appointed privacy but he never claimed to be someone he’s not – a good friend if he wants to be, at least more often than not, and meddlesome if he could get away with it.   
  
And the hell with it because right now, he doesn’t care, he’s choosing the latter.  
  
He pushes the expensive-looking chocolate cake with his fork, plays with it just to spite the other man sitting opposite him because he can, watching the way the other man’s mouth curls in obvious distaste. He wonders briefly how in the world this man and his friend ended up lusting each other but then again, he never claimed to understand how love and lust happen anyway, and he’s not going to start now.  
  
“I’m not sure why you want to meet with me but –“ the man says, or at least that’s obviously his plan before he cuts him off with a curt nod.   
  
“It’s about my very dear friend, Sakurai Sho-san,” he says, shoving a fork-full of cake into his mouth and chewing it without breaking their gazes. “I suppose you know who that man is, yeah?”  
  
The expression on the man’s face doesn’t change, though there is something in the way his eyes turned darker than they were seconds before that tells him he again just hit the nail on the head.   
  
“What about him?” the man asks, obviously trying to make it sound like he’s not interested but he’s not fooling anybody, most especially him.   
  
He shrugs. “I believe you went through all the trouble just to find him,” he says, gesturing with his hand. “I’m his roommate, by the way – I was there the night he kicked you out,”  
  
He would have applauded the man’s ability to hide his emotions but he won’t be the man he is right now if he’s not good at spotting such vulnerable emotions no matter how good the person is at hiding them.   
  
“I – f-forgive me for intruding,” the man says, bowing his head a little, “I just – I didn’t mean any trouble; I just came there to see Sho-san but –“  
  
“I know, you don’t need to apologize,” he says, hurriedly, because that’s not what matters and he didn’t call the man out here to talk about  _that._ Or maybe yes, but this isn’t just because of  _that,_  of course. “But there’s something else I need to know from you before I tell you what you need to know about that sorry excuse of a stubborn idiot,”  
  
The man looks at him suspiciously and well, he can’t really blame him. He’s not even sure why the hell he’s doing this but he guesses people needs to let their stupid side out every once and a while, and well, that’s what he’s doing now, isn’t he? Not to mention the fact that he knows he is doing it for the sake of his friend.  
  
“And that is?”  
  
He leans over the table and squints at the other man. “Do you love him enough to compromise? To step out from your world and maybe, I don’t know, to do something so you two could meet in the middle? Because that idiot has this stupid notion about you and him –“  
  
“I’d do  _anything_ for him,” the man returns, softly, sounding pathetically miserable that he feels himself wanting to roll his eyes at the sickening love confession but thankfully able to rein himself in. “ _Anything_ ; but I bet you already know Sho-san doesn’t want that;  _he_  – he doesn’t want anything to do with me and I –“ the man pauses here, and the previously confident man is suddenly been replaced with someone Nino doesn’t recognize anymore. “He wants me gone,” the man follows, and he looks bitter, like he’s given up trying to make sense of everything when he knows what he wants but doesn’t know what else he should do to get it. “the least I can do is to give him what he wants. I don’t – I never wanted to make Sho-san’s life harder than it already is,”  
  
He could see how the man struggles to keep his emotions in check, how he’s vainly trying not to say anything that he knows will give himself away but well, Nino is good at that, too.   
  
But despite all that, Nino knows there is something more to what the other man wants him to see, something about the way his tone softens when he says Sho’s name, how his eyes struggles not glaze over as he speaks about how he feels for Nino’s damn stubborn friend.  
  
And well, now Nino realizes how perfectly matched Sho and this man is. Both stubborn, both hard-headed fools who loves each other to a fault but is being held back by their own stubbornness to make things work between them.   
  
“What he needs is a good hard slap in the face, and maybe a kick or two in the ass for being so hard-headed,” Nino says, smirking. “He wants you just as bad, we both know that but he’s too stubborn for his own good to even let himself believe that nothing’s impossible, that you can both work it out if you want to. You love him, right? Then I think it is safe to say that if he cannot do it for himself, then at least someone has to do it for him, for the both of you,”  
  
The man stares at him as if he’s crazy.  
  
“And that someone is you, Matsumoto-san,” 


	21. And then there is light

He wakes to the feel of something slapping him in the face.  
  
“Wakey wakey, sleepy-head,” says someone who suspiciously sounds like Nino, grumbling when something hits his face again. “Come on, it’s a brand new day. Wake the fuck up or I’m seriously hitting you with a pitcher-full of cold water, don’t say I didn’t warn you,”  
  
“Fuck,” he curses, does his best to dodge another oncoming hit as Nino apparently perches himself on the edge of his bed and is currently hitting him in the face with a newspaper. “What the hell, it’s too early!” he complains.  
  
“Early bird catches the early worm, so is the saying goes, so get up, get up!” Nino continues, sounding suspiciously hyper so early in the morning. But his brain still hasn’t caught up with his body, enough to see what the fuck Nino is up to and simply allows his friend to lead him out from his bedroom and straight towards the bathroom.  
  
“Go shower,” Nino tells him, “we have some important things to discuss when you’re awake enough to do so. Don’t drown in there or so help me I will poison you,” Nino says, only closing the door behind him when he grunted his response and told Nino to fuck off.  
  
+++  
  
He has barely seated when Nino hits him with another heavier stack of papers in the face.  
  
“Ouch --   _jeez,_  what the fuck is up with you today?” he grumbles, watches as Nino simply grins and parks himself on the opposite chair, pointing at the stack of papers that ended up in his hands.   
  
“Just making sure you’re already awake,” Nino tells him, batting his eyelashes at him. “Are you  now?”  
  
“Fuck you,” he tells Nino and almost gets smacked in the face again with another stack of papers, but this time, he’s marginally awake to dodge it. “ – the hell?” he hisses, squinting at the back page of the paper he’s got on his hands and blinking, before taking his gaze back to Nino’s face.  
  
“What the hell is this?”  
  
“Oh, I thought you’re smart – you really can’t read that?” Nino mocks, picking up the mug of coffee he’s brought with him and grinning suspiciously over the rim.   
  
“Ninomiya, I swear to god, one of these days I am going to choke you with your own underwear,” he warns, before he goes back to squinting at the paper – which is actually an envelope, with his name written on it. He flips the envelope over along with a few more envelopes he has in hand, finds that there are at least five of the same, all of them bearing his name. “What the fuck are these?” he mutters under his breath and looks up to find Nino grinning so wide he’s afraid his friend’s face will tear in half.  
  
“Those, my friend, are your ticket to a good future, that is, if you’re brave enough to take them,”   
  
  
+++  
  
The envelopes turn out to be letters from various universities offering scholarship grants to students who would want to finish school but who have no means to support their studies. It’s all well and good, if not for the fact that Sho is pretty sure he never sent those applications himself, and telling Nino that as well.  
  
But his friend merely shrugs, before brandishing a few envelopes of his own with Nino’s name on them, too.   
  
“You didn’t, but I did,” Nino tells him, as if that in itself is enough to explain everything. “I thought it was high time we do something good for ourselves, so –“  
  
“So you think going back to school is the answer? That’s bullshit, Nino,” he tells Nino but apparently, Nino has spent a lot of time thinking things over and boy, Nino did a lot of thinking.   
  
“Think about it, Sho-chan,” Nino says, opening one of the envelopes and taking the letter out. “This might be our chance to change our life, that one opportunity people would kill for just to get their hands on and you’re here, questioning it like the stupid that you are? I can’t fucking believe you,”  
  
He couldn’t believe it either, but hell, to be honest, it’s not really that bad. Once, long ago, he also dreamt of himself entering university, taking up a course he likes, graduating and well, getting a job that is far from the one he himself landed on a few months before and really, that’s something he wouldn’t regret getting but only if it means he wouldn’t trouble anyone if he actually agreed on any of this.  
  
Still, there are too many things to consider. Surely, this scholarship doesn’t cover everything, does it? The books, the thesis, their food allowance, oh god, “But what about –“  
  
“We  _can_  and we  _will_  still keep our part-time jobs, Sho-chan, don’t worry about it,” Nino says, answering his question as if Nino’s able to read his mind, grabbing one of the envelopes and pushing it forward, the name Keio University written on the upper-right corner of the envelope the first thing Sho sees. “I have already contacted these universities, and this one –“ Nino points at the envelope, “ – the administrator told me that students under the program are allowed to fix their own schedules however it would suit them. He said it’s to allow the students the freedom and the chance to take on part time jobs to support themselves and their other needs that the university won’t be able to provide them,”  
  
“I –“ well, what was that he wants to say again?  
  
Nino smiles then and grabs his hand. “So, wanna do this together, Sho-chan?”


	22. Interlude + New life

Interlude

“Aren’t you going overboard with all these?” Ninomiya asks, looking slightly incredulous but he guesses that’s understandable, given the fact that he has overlooked the implications of his actions –  _again_ – just because he wants to give  _and_ provide that one person with everything he needs to get through his studies without distractions.

But if distractions meant other things such as this, then, well.

“Well –“ he says, then pauses. He realized he doesn’t really know what to say if only to explain everything and well, it’s probably because he’s not used to being the one being questioned himself.

He’s used to doing things however he pleases, afterall, so having other people and in this case Sho-san’s friend, Ninomiya, pointing out to him how ridiculously stupid his decisions are is kind of, well, aggravating.

“A laptop,” Ninomiya points out, “and the latest model, if I may add, for each student under the program? Are you insane?”

He wants to say something but he stops himself halfway, knows that if anything, Ninomiya has just raised a very valid point.

“Seriously, Matsumoto-san, I don’t care how rich you are and how you’re literally throwing your money into a pit of fire and letting it burn, but –“

“I’m doing this for you and for Sho-san, Ninomiya-san,” he cuts in quickly, running his fingers through his hair agitatedly, ignoring Nino’s ‘and how many times do I have to tell you to call me Nino?’ jibe and continues. “and, since we cannot let Sho-san suspect about the oddness of the sponsors providing him and you, if you accept, that is, with everything he needs –“

“So providing for everybody is how you decide to roll, is that it?” Ninomiya cuts back in, again sounding incredulous.

“It’s not – I mean, it’s not that much, really.” He explains, wishing this isn’t because of the money even though it probably is. “I have money… and I don’t mind using it just to –“

“We didn’t sign up for this, Matsumoto-san,” Nino tells him, “we agreed about the scholarship but we didn’t agree with you paying for everything. That’s daytime robbery,”

“I want to help, okay?” he returns, “just – you guys can pay me back if you want, when you can, but for now you need all the help you can get. And I’m giving it wholeheartedly, so.” He shakes his head, feeling a little desperate. He can’t lose Ninomiya’s support now. Not when this is his ticket to getting Sho-san back, to making sure Sho-san would never look down on himself once he graduated, once he gets his own two feet on the pedestal he’s been preparing for Sho-san for the longest time since he met him.

“Just let me help, Nino,” he says, and he knows he sounded like he’s begging but he doesn’t care. Not now. Not anymore. “Please?”

Nino heaves a sigh that could be anything but indulging, but still, he can’t be so sure, not when Nino’s eyes are filled with understanding and he’s now having trouble keeping himself from smiling.

“Alright, fine,” Nino says, finally, “but you’re not giving everyone the same privileges Sho-san and I are supposed to be getting. I and Sho-chan are going to pay you, down to the last cent but those other people? No, I don’t think they will. So we’re doing this my way, understood?”

Oh well, they’ve come this far for him to disagree and anyway, he already trusts Nino and Nino’s judgments enough to let him decide. And now, that’s how they’re going to do things, hoping they don’t screw up in the end.

He trusts Nino on that one, too.

“Have it your way, Nino,” he says, and reaches over to shakes Nino’s hand when Nino grins and offers his.

“Very well,”

Chapter 22  

If Sho is going to be really, really honest about all this, he thinks going back to university is one part-fulfilling, half-part enjoyable and a quarter tiring, and the other bigger part? Absolute hell.

He told Nino this in several occasions already, when they were both buried nose-deep on their books and he was literally on the edge of eating his notes, but as it was, Nino’s simple  reply was to huff something indistinct towards his way before he went back to scowl at his own stacks of accounting books.

The comforting thought about all this was at least, they were being backed by some kind-hearted Samaritan-like group who apparently was overly-wealthy to sponsor everyone enrolled under the program. They had even extended their generosity by paying everything and thus making the student’s lives a whole lot of easier --  from transportation fare to lunch and dinner expenses, books and the latest addition to the ever-growing list of that Samaritan’s awesomeness, a laptop for each student.

He was over the moon when he received his, and Nino had teased him for days because of it, not that he minded, not really. He was grateful that they were given the chance to change their lives by acquiring a higher level of education than what they were able to acquire for themselves, and wished he could somehow properly thank the person (or persons) who had been helping him and those other students like him get through this tough, academic world.

“One more month and we’re out of here,” Nino says from his other side, stretching like a lithe cat as they both stare at the now familiar sight of students walking around the campus. He and Nino has just submitted their final thesis and he’s sure, even without waiting for the results, that he and Nino are going to graduate with flying colors.

“Can you believe it, Nino?” he mumbles, shaking his head; “It has been two years already, and wow, can you  believe we were able to make it till the end? We’re going to graduate in a month’s time and – wow,”

He feels a nudge on his side, catching the genuine happy smile spreading across his friend’s face.

“Yeah,” Nino agrees, “and we wouldn’t be here if you didn’t agree to take this road with me, Sho-chan, so thank you,” Nino follows, and there’s that thoughtful look on his friend’s eyes again – the same one he always manages to catch a second earlier before it disappears. This time though, that look on Nino’s eyes remains until he himself has to look away.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” he says, “I think we should go and find those people who sponsored us, thank us properly for helping us, you know?”

Nino shrugs his shoulders in a non-committal kind of way, his mouth curling thoughtfully at the edges.

“We will,” he says, “but soon. We’ll do it after graduation, what do you say?”

“Yeah,” he returns with a smile. “Yeah, let’s do that,” 


	23. Out to get you

Nino doesn’t need to look around to know that Matsumoto-san is there, somewhere, carefully hiding amongst the crowd of people gathering at the auditorium. He also doesn’t need to look very far to find his bestfriend’s beaming smile as the other man steps in and folds him into a tight embrace, though it probably doesn’t come close to how tight his chest feels like at the moment.  
  
It’s their graduation day. Two years of hardwork has finally paid off, though the most part of it goes to Matsumoto-san and Matsumoto-san’s money.   
  
Though right now, Nino can’t help but feel a little uneasy, despite the happiness of what they’ve accomplished. Well it’s hard not to feel that way when he’s told himself – and Matsumoto-san knows this, too – that today is going to be it -- the day they tell Sho about Matsumoto-san’s involvement to his and Sho’s academic success.  
  
“Ready for the last stage of our hopefully bright and better future, Nino?” Sho asks him as the PA system announces the start of the ceremony.  
  
He bumps fist with the other man and grins. “Been ready for some time now, Sho-chan,” he says.  
  
Sho grins and tugs him back into a quick, brotherly hug. “See you later, then?”  
  
He nods and lets Sho go. “Yeah. Later,”  
  
+++  
  
He would have said  _something_  –  _more_  -- but he held back. His bestfriend sure looks like he has things to say himself, but is obviously holding himself back as well, judging with the way Nino has been so edgy lately.  
  
Well, he couldn’t exactly blame the guy. He’d probably feel the same way if he’s the one keeping secrets from his bestfriend – if he’s the one who had to pretend nothing was happening behind the said bestfriend’s back. In reality though, he finds it even harder to act like he knows nothing, that acting like he has no idea what shit was going down without him knowing anything is even more difficult than he thought it’ll be when he first decided to keep his mouth shut.  
  
He shakes his head and mentally counts to twenty before he looks up, gaze finding the familiar body frame of the man who has been in his thoughts every waking day of his life for the last two years, checking his phone. The man is squeezed between a father with his son perched above his shoulders and a cooing mother waving a huge ‘ _Congratulations, Taisuke’_  banner. He ducks down, mouth lilting into a grin despite his best efforts not to let it, because as far as blending is concern, Matsumoto-san still stands out despite wearing his sort-of normal people’s clothing.  
  
He notices the hairstyle has changed again this time (Matsumoto-san is sporting a sort of curly-perm-hairstyle that suits him well), his pretty, pretty eyes hidden underneath by a huge pair of dark sunglasses that almost covers half of his face. He’s wearing a fitted, V-necked white shirt on paired with his favorite, thigh-hugging jeans that makes his mouth water, his shapely arms crossed tightly over his muscled chest.  
  
This isn’t the first time he sees Matsumoto-san over the past two years but it’s still not enough to dull the flutter of excitement thrumming underneath his skin now, nor the fact that Matsumoto-san has no idea he’s being stared back at when Sho knows he’s not looking. He can feel the spread of that now familiar longing he has to learn how to get use to for the past years, barely allowing himself to hope that after all this, he’d get to be the person Matsumoto-san would be proud enough to have.   
  
He wonders how long he will be able to keep this façade, for there hasn’t been a day eversince he shoved Matsumoto-san out of his door that he hasn’t thought of the man, hasn’t regretted everything he’s said and did to him. Despite the crazy school works that had occupied his time for the most part of the past two years, it wasn’t enough to keep Matsumoto-san out of his mind.  
  
He knew about Matsumoto-san’s involvement in this – the scholarship, the favors, everything. It wasn’t like Nino was that good at hiding it either, despite the fact that he’d give it to his bestfriend, the way Nino acted as if the scholarship had been nothing but a miracle bouncing over their laps in the most unexpected circumstances. Of course he knew, but not right away, not instantly, no, because Nino and Matsumoto-san was nothing but thorough.   
  
Although come to think of it, they still weren’t thorough enough. He thought about it a lot of times, before he came to the realization that okay, if his bestfriend and Matsumoto-san think they could coerce him into wanting to be a better individual by deliberately hiding the fact that the help he and Nino have gotten through the last couple of years was from the one person he had tried his best to avoid, then its fine.  
  
If they think lying to him is the right way to go, then he’ll roll with it. But that doesn’t mean he was totally okay with it, or that he himself didn’t have plans of his own.  
  
It’s difficult, he figured then, because it isn’t like the hints weren’t there for him to figure out. God, he’s not that stupid, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t done his fair share of snooping around himself to not know what was going on. He talked to a lot of people, too, without Nino knowing it, and he had even managed to follow Nino on one of his so-called secret meetings with Matsumoto-san.  
  
He’ll admit that at first, he was furious, but he guesses that’s just understandable given the fact that he really didn’t want anything to do with Matsumoto-san anymore. God, but he’s refused the man time and time again, had literally kicked the man out of his life more times than he could remember and then to realize that he had, once again, went out of his way to provide him with something he had wanted all his life? Seriously, the humiliation was enough to fuel his rage but he had managed to calm himself down this time, enough to talk himself out of that temporary urge to find the man and invite him out for a punching match.  
  
It was also enough reason for him to believe what Nino told him before, that maybe, possibly, there was something more to  _this_  – him and Matsumoto-san – than what he had been stubbornly refusing to see.   
  
Granted that Matsumoto-san used his money, again, to help him (and those other people, too, that stupid, rich idiot) and Nino, but then again, he did it for him. Even despite the fact that Matsumoto-san had managed to stay hidden from plain view, and had appointed a sort-of phantom Samaritan bastard just so he wouldn’t be found out, it doesn’t hide the fact that Matsumoto-san had yet again did something out of the ordinary just to cross the distance between them even without him knowing it.  
  
And he’s honestly grateful for it; his chest swells everytime he thinks about it, at the unbelievable fact that someone was stupid enough to like him that much, and liked him enough to do things for him that would have made falling for the said person as easy as breathing itself.   
  
And he did – he fell in love with Matsumoto-san so hard without him knowing it. The feeling is so intense that sometimes, he feels like he couldn’t breathe with the force of it, wondering how he’s able to keep looking the other way when he was certain Matsumoto-san was just around the corner, checking him out.  
  
And he  _knew_  –  _knows_  – even without admitting it, that the reason he swallowed his pride and continued walking – continued with his studies with his head bowed low was because there’s this part of him that wanted to prove Matsumoto-san right for choosing him, for investing in him despite the fact that he was merely nothing compared to the other man.  
  
For all its worth, he thinks he's just about close to doing exactly that.


	24. Interlude + 24 - Make it so you're mine and I'm yours

He couldn’t even remember the last time he was this conflicted. On the one hand, he is extremely happy, and on the other, he feels so nervous it’s making him dizzy.   
  
His hands are sore but he couldn’t stop clapping, would even scream Sho-san’s name if only he wasn’t afraid Sho might actually hear him. The other man looks so gorgeous up there on stage, and his heart swells with so much pride when he realized they called Sho-san’s name twice to award him with the highest honor.  
  
He doesn’t know this, and it’s obvious that Ninomiya-san either forgot to mention it or he deliberately didn’t inform him but either way, he’s too damn proud for Sho-san that the urge to run up to him and hug him tight is so strong he has to breathe a few times to calm himself down.  
  
But of course, he’s also worried because Ninomiya-san insisted it should be today, after the graduation ceremonies, that they tell Sho everything.   
  
He begs Nino a lot of times he could no longer remember, if they could postpone it, at least. Not today, not now, because it is their big day and he doesn’t want to ruin their supposedly happy day with revelations he knew would only upset the two.  
  
But Ninomiya-san is nothing but stubborn, and well, he couldn’t exactly blame the guy. Two years is long enough to keep something like this from the person who means a lot to the both of them and well, more than ever, he thinks Ninomiya-san knows Sho-san better than he does so he will go with Ninomiya-san’s decision despite that painful twist deep in his gut.  
  
Because he knows, judging with how hard-headed and prideful Sho-san is, this isn’t going to end up well for either him or Nino.   
  
He just wishes one of them is good enough to convince Sho-san to listen, to let them explain their side before all hell breaks loose and he ends up losing Sho-san again.  
  
++  
  
He checks his phone for what seemed like the nth time, his palms sweating as he cradles his phone in his hand. Ninomiya-san has messaged him twice with regards to their scheduled meeting, and seriously, if he doesn’t know his heart’s in perfect condition (his medical reports said so), he’d worry about dying of a heart arrest with the way his stupid heart is behaving.  
  
It hasn’t even been two hours since the graduation ceremony and he’s pretty sure the reason why Ninomiya-san chose not to go straight into letting him and Sho-san meet is because Ninomiya-san is giving him enough time to prepare himself, gather all the strength and courage he will need once he faces Sho-san.  
  
The problem is, he doesn’t think it is going to be enough.  
  
He crosses the hallway, only paying half-attention to everything around him as he absently tries finding the room he’s rented earlier that day, where he and Ninomiya-san agreed they will meet, along with Sho-san, and careful not to trip on his feet given how shaky his knees are. He checks his phone then his keycard, barely giving the maroon-colored carpeted floor he’s walking on and sighing in relief when his gaze finds the room at the end of the hallway matching that of the one written on his keycard.  
  
It was agreed that he will wait in the room while Ninomiya-san convinces Sho-san to go with him, that Ninomiya-san will mail him once they were on their way. He’s still not sure how things will go from here, but for all its worth, he thinks he’s at this point where he could accept anything so long as the end result would be for Sho-san to have a better life than the one he has before he met him. He thinks he loves Sho-san enough to let him go, watch him spread his wings despite knowing he’d leave and might not come back, so long as he knows Sho-san is free and happy.  
  
For now, he doesn’t care about the specifics, about the technicalities, so long as he is sure Sho-san is okay. He plans to tell Sho-san about this, that the reason why he helped Sho-san wasn’t because he wants to tie Sho-san down or make him do what he doesn’t want out of gratitude, because he doesn’t want that. He wants Sho-san, loves him for who he was and who he is now, loves him enough to want to give him the world if Sho-san asks for it but it doesn’t mean he loves Sho-san so much to want to keep him to himself, because he knows Sho-san wouldn’t want that.  
  
He did what he did because Sho-san’s happiness is important to him, as important as the man himself is, and despite the fact that Sho-san is his very reason for breathing, he’d bravely let him go if that is what Sho-san will ask him.  
  
He will just have to content himself in watching Sho-san from afar, the same way he’d been doing for the last couple of years.  
  
He reaches the door without him realizing it, puts the keycard absently and vaguely hearing the sound of the lock turning because his attention is once again on his phone. He pushes the door open, then closing it without bothering looking up, scrolling through his contacts and finding Ninomiya-san’s number with all the intention of calling the other man to check where they are already.  
  
A movement on his left is what made him raise his head, freezes on the spot when his gaze zooms in into a pair of dark, brown eyes, looking back at him.  
  
“Been so long, huh? How have you been, Matsumoto-san?”  
  
  
+++  


 

24 - Make it so you're mine, and I'm yours

  
  
“No, just stay right there and we will come to meet you,” Nino hushes to whoever it is he is talking on his phone, though he already knows who it might be. With the way Nino is acting (like a goddamn secret service agent, the jerk), it’s not that hard to tell.   
  
“Just trust me, alright? I just need to make sure Sho-chan has something to eat first before I drag him around, he’s crabby when he’s hungry so, yeah,“ he grins, couldn’t not, and keeps listening in. “Eight floor, room 821, yes I got it. Yes, the duplicate keycard you sent is also with me, and by the way, the guy you sent it with is cute, can I have his – alright, alright, jeez, chill will you? _What_? No, we’re not going drinking – oh, wait, should we? Oh, we can put it in your tab – wow, that’s nice of you but maybe we should do that when this thing is over, yeah? I mean, of course today is a special day but – no, listen, we finish this thing first and then you don’t know, maybe we can do the celebration thing afterwards, no big deal. I mean, yeah – what? Of course I’m nervous! What kind of friend do you take me for? I’m sure Sho-chan will want my sorry ass in a silver platter after he realizes my involvement in all this crap and well, I can’t exactly blame him, I completely deserve it,” Nino pauses here, probably to let the other man talk while he’s pretty much trying to mold himself to the wall without making any sound.  
  
Nino hums and he watches the way Nino is twirling the keycard in his hand absently. “No, don’t worry about it,” Nino mumbles, and he wishes his hearing is that good so he could also hear the words Matsumoto-san is saying. He feels the familiar ache that has always been connected to Matsumoto-san’s name, rubbing that spot in his chest as if it will soothe the pain away.  
  
It  _doesn’t._    
  
“You go ahead and wait for us there,” Nino follows, his voice soft and quiet, “I’ll make sure to bring Sho-chan to you so you two can talk. Yes, even if he’s kicking and screaming, right. Though I’d probably need a few pair of hands to come help me if he’s going to be that difficult,”  
  
He grins again. “Alright,” Nino says, with finality. “See you in about half an hour, one max,” Nino says then ends the call. He comes out from his hiding just in time when Nino is turning, so the first thing Nino sees is his face.  
  
“What the  _fuck_ – Sho-chan, what the hell are you doing –“  
  
Two huge strides and he’s already in front of Nino, quickly snatching the keycard from his hand before it disappears and grabbing Nino by the elbow to back him against the wall he’s previously leaning back in.   
  
“Shouldn’t that be  _my_  line, Nino?” he asks into Nino’s face, feeling particularly good with himself when he sees Nino’s adams apple bobs, nervously, looking sorely like a cornered animal. “Now tell me, what the fuck do  _you_  think you’re doing?”  
  
+++  
  
He’s not sure whether he wants to laugh or cry. Seeing Matsumoto-san up close after so long is doing so many things to him that he doesn’t even know which ones of those overwhelming emotions to grab a hold of first.   
  
On one hand, he is consumed with this insane urge to walk up to the man and hug the shit out of him and on the other, he is being swallowed by his own stupid doubts that he ends up wondering how the fuck he should proceed from this if he couldn’t even master enough courage to tell Matsumoto-san what he’s been dying to tell him since that night he kicked him out of his door.  
  
But maybe it is understandable, maybe this damn churning in his gut at the sight of Matsumoto-san’s god-fucking-gorgeous face is one huge evidence that he misses the other man so much it makes him sick, that the simple fact that they are standing not even a few paces away from each other is enough to reduce him into this person who couldn’t even as much as think properly just because the love of his fucking life is so near he feels like he will expire if he couldn’t put his arms around him right now.  
  
“S-Sho-san?” Matsumoto-san calls, and god, Sho’s chest is already well on its way to bursting just hearing his name from Matsumoto-san’s lips. He watches as Matsumoto-san forces his gaze off from him, not bothering covering the surprised look on his face as his eyes wander around the room before he finds Matsumoto-san’s gaze locked on him again.   
  
“ _Where’s_  – Where’s Ninomiya-san?”  
  
He shrugs in what seemed like a non-committal way, but he only did that so he has enough time to recover, so he has enough time to look at Matsumoto-san and reassure himself that he’s here, and he’s real.   
  
“Out having drinks with Ohno,” he says, lips tilting into a smile at the memory of his bestfriend’s face when he cornered him to the wall and snatched the keycard Ohno has delivered into his bestfriend’s hand. “I didn’t know that guy left the club as well, and is now working for you, too,” he says, half-amused and equal parts-delighted.  
  
It is Matsumoto-san’s turn to shrug this time, his eyes never leaving his. “He  _was_  -- is your friend,” Matsumoto-san explains, “I figured you would want him to leave that god-forsaken place as well  but –“  
  
“I didn’t know he wants to leave,” he says, cutting in. “Well, we didn’t really talked about it; I was not working there long enough to figure a lot of things out with regards to my co-workers, afterall,”  
  
Matsumoto-san nods his head in agreement and that familiar ache returns when he realized he is gripping the sides of his slacks to keep his urges in check. God, his body wants to move, his feet wants to cross that short distance between him and Matsumoto-san, take Matsumoto-san’s face in his hands and kiss him endless but, god, it's so difficult to stay focused when he wants to do so many things and wondering if it's still allowed.  
  
But after so long, and after those troubles Matsumoto-san went through just to get to him, just to make sure he's standing where he is right now, he thinks it is safe to assume that Matsumoto-san's feelings for him hasn't waned, hasn't changed, the way his own feelings has.   
  
Because eversince that night he pushed Matsumoto-san away, he knew, even without admitting it, that he had fallen in love with the other man so badly there was no getting out from it.  
  
He watches as Matsumoto-san reaches up to run his fingers through his hair, his phone and keycard in his other free hand. “S-Sho-san, I –“ the other man pauses here, his face haunted, the shadows in his eyes evident.  
  
“ – have a lot of explaining to do, yes,” he cuts in, and god damn it, he doesn’t know he is already walking towards the other man until he finds himself standing about two feet away from him and that he only needs to reach his hands out to be able to touch him.   
  
Matsumoto-san on the other hand, remains stocked-still, quiet and unmoving as he finally gives in to the urge and reaches out to press his palm against Matsumoto-san’s cold cheek.  
  
“S-Sho-san –“  
  
He shakes his head and cups Matsumoto-san’s cheek, feels the way his heart thrums wildly inside his chest at the first warm feel of Matsumoto-san’s skin beneath his palm after so long of denying himself of that pleasure.   
  
“But let’s leave it for now and just --” he says, smiles when Matsumoto-san’s breath hitches, “just let me look at you, Matsumoto-san,” he whispers, knows that his voice is shaking along with the rest of him but he doesn’t care. Not when Matsumoto-san is leaning in to his touch and is smiling so brightly that he outshines all the lights in the room.

 


	25. Take me, I'm yours

  
He isn’t sure who moves first, but he guesses it’s an entirely irrelevant thing now that he is backed against the hotel room’s door and Matsumoto-san is pressed against him, Matsumoto-san’s hands cupping his face as they kiss.  
  
It’s an entirely different scenario to the one he’s imagined a hundred times before, but it’s not an unpleasant one, to be honest. The soft, slick glide of Matsumoto-san’s tongue against his is making his breath hitch, Matsumoto-san’s hands gentle on his face as they reacquaint themselves to each other’s tastes is dizzying enough to make him stop but he won’t, never, moaning softly into Matsumoto-san’s mouth everytime their lips part and cling.  
  
“God, I  _miss_  you so much,” Matsumoto-san confesses, still mostly into his mouth and he laughs into the kiss, couldn’t not, struggles to tug Matsumoto-san’s face down for another searing tongue battle. It’s hot and wonderful, and it is exactly how he remembers it to be, and god, he wonders how he’s able to live these past two years without this – without Matsumoto-san’s touch and kisses but he’s not about to chastise himself for that now, is he?  
  
He slides his fingers through Matsumoto-san’s perfectly-styled hair, reveling on the softness of each strand as he parts his mouth and lets Matsumoto-san’s tongue in with a breathless sigh. He couldn’t as much as say anything as words get stuck in his throat, the feel of Matsumoto-san’s body pressed against his is making even the simple thing as thinking difficult.  
  
They’d have to talk, the two of them, but right now, it is simply impossible. Being apart for two years is long enough to bypass the talking and just go straight to fucking as quickly as possible, and well, it sure looks like Matsumoto-san shares his idea about this.  
  
Or, is he?  
  
He’s turning them around without preamble, fumbling for a second so he could kiss Matsumoto-san one more time before he’s sliding on his knees, fingers working on Matsumoto-san’s pants when Matsumoto-san hisses and hauls him back up by his shoulders till they’re nose to nose.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” Matsumoto-san grumbles, his voice breathy and ragged.  
  
“What’s it look like?” he returns with a completely straight face; there’s an awkward knot twisting inside his stomach that makes him think of stepping back but with how he sees it, Matsumoto-san wants this just as bad, so fuck it. He smirks and drags his hand from Matsumoto-san’s chest down to his thighs, a tiny inch shy from grazing Matsumoto-san’s crotch. “unless of course you’re incapable of getting it up because you actually spent those last two years fucking someone else and –“  
  
“Trying to rile me up, huh, Sho-san?” the spark on Matsumoto-san’s eyes returns and god damn it, he looks so hot he wants to just go back down and swallow him, his belly clenching in delicious anticipation.   
  
“Is it working?” he asks, licking his lips; well, they could very well deal with their individual shit later, maybe even punch each other’s faces if only to settle the score between them but for now, he wants Matsumoto-san so bad it’s driving him crazy with it.   
  
He fingers the hem of Matsumoto-san’s obviously expensive shirt, tentatively dipping two inside and feeling Matsumoto-san’s warm skin underneath.  
  
“It’s not and you know it,” Matsumoto-san grumbles, catching him around the wrist and staring him down; god, he doesn’t know he missed staring at those eyes until now, wants to get lost in them as Matsumoto-san fucks him hard and slow. “I – god, it’s been so long and I’m not sure if I –“  
  
He smirks at this and doesn’t bother with the niceties as he tiptoes and catches Matsumoto-san into a wet, hungry kiss, pulling back when he’s sure Matsumoto-san’s head is filled with nothing but the insane urge to fuck till they could no longer move, the same thing that filled his mind the very second his lips touched Matsumoto-san's.  
  
He puts his hand where he wants it, hears the hitch in Matsumoto-san’s breath when his fingers knead the other man’s balls through the rough fabric of his jeans.  
  
“Well, that’s exactly what I’m here for,” he starts, at the same time his fingers work on unbuttoning Matsumoto-san’s pants and quickly reaching inside to find Matsumoto-san’s cock hard and hot to the touch. “ – to help you reacquaint with the wonderful ways of fucking so – shall we?” he grumbles, and drops on his knees for the second time in the span of a few minutes, looking up to find Matsumoto-san’s lip caught in between white teeth.   
  
He’s so damn gorgeous, so damn hot that he is overwhelmed with this insane urge to just beg Matsumoto-san to do whatever the fuck he wants with him, all night, every night and everyday after. God, he’s so gone.  
  
He takes Matsumoto-san’s cock in hand without breaking their gazes, flicks his tongue to lick at the bulging veins around it, tracing them with the tips of his tongue.   
  
“God, Sho-san,”  
  
“Say,” he mumbles, breathing warm breathes into the sensitive head and making Matsumoto-san shiver. “do you want me to suck you first or shall we go straight into business?”  
  
The only response he gets is a sort of frustrated growl before his mouth is full with Matsumoto-san’s cock and Matsumoto-san’s fingers are tight on his hair while he sucks Matsumoto-san’s cock happily.

+++

 

It’s wonderful, really, to be where he is right now after so long of depriving himself of this. There might be a lot of things that had to be settled between them, a few more in between that had to be voiced out before they can really say it'll be better this time around but they've managed the last couple of years without each other anyway, without even saying a single thing to one another that a few hours more without talking won’t make such difference.   
  
Afterall, they’ve waited two years too long to talk and they’re sure as hell could manage a couple hours more without it.  
  
The need to orgasm, however,  _couldn’t_.  
  
“ _God,_  just –“ Matsumoto-san says, or at least start to, but once again, he fails; it’s sort of charming to witness the usually calm and collected man losing his composure in the middle of something he himself knows he’s so much better at, but Sho takes pride on being one (or perhaps the only) of the few people who can rattle Matsumoto-san’s confidence enough to shatter it, until the only thing that remains is the shadows of the man he once was.   
  
Because despite being always on top of his game, Sho knows he is the only one who could break Matsumoto-san’s defenses without hardly trying, knows that if anything, Matsumoto-san allows him the luxury to be this close without turning him away.  
  
“Yeah –“ he agrees, rolling his hips and bracing himself with one arm to steady himself, clutching Matsumoto-san’s shoulder and the other he has around Matsumoto-san’s nape. “Yeah, just let me,” he breathes, feels the knot in his stomach tightens as he pushes himself upright on his knees, and leaving them both gasping with the incredible sensation.   
  
His legs ache with his efforts to keep up with his body’s demands, biting his lips as Matsumoto-san meets him thrust for thrust; their skins are glistening with sweat, but it only makes Matsumoto-san so damn hot to the touch, so damn gorgeous to look at and he couldn’t even find it in him to stop running his fingers across Matsumoto-san’s sweat-matted skin.  
  
 _“Fuck_ , you’re so damn sexy,” he finds himself muttering at a downward stroke, watches Matsumoto-san throws his head back in pleasure when he’s once again sheathes Matsumoto-san’s cock to the hilt. He feels full full full, so fucking full and a tiny bit of sore but it’s okay, it’s alright as long as it is Matsumoto-san and it’s Matsumoto-san’s cock making him feel this way.  
  
“ _Damn it,_  Sho-san—“ Matsumoto-san curses and thrusts up once, twice, the mattress creaking beneath them and god, he wants to come but at the same time, he doesn’t want to. He wants to prolong this, wants to keep Matsumoto-san’s cock throbbing hard and hot inside him, wants to remember the feeling, from when Matsumoto-san is away and couldn’t fuck him so damn good like this.  
  
He raises himself up and drops back down just as quickly, both of them gasping at the same time at the electrifying sensation; his cock is dripping precum against his own stomach, begging to be touched but he doesn’t want to, not yet at least, as he repeats the action twice if only to hear the sweet sounds coming from the back of Matsumoto-san’s throat.  
  
 _“Don’t_  come, not yet,” he hisses, lifting his hips from Matsumoto-san’s lap until only the head is left buried inside him; Matsumoto-san is breathing raggedly, fingers gripping his hips for leverage as Matsumoto-san’s hips arch from the bed, obviously trying to follow the lost heat. “Shhh, come on, calm down,” he tells Matsumoto-san, “you have to calm down or you’re going to end up coming in a second,”  
  
Matsumoto-san’s eyes are wild and he is having trouble regulating his breathing, and well, he couldn’t exactly blame him. It’s been too long for him as well but he wants this to last, wants this sort-of makeup-slash-reunion-sex to be one of the memorable ones.  
  
“I –  _god damn it_ , Sho-san!” Matsumoto-san half-shouts and he looks torn between crying and pulling at his hair; he smiles and takes one of Matsumoto-san’s hands and lifts it to his mouth, pressing soft kisses against the back of Matsumoto-san’s knuckles.   
  
“You want to come that badly, huh?”  
  
Matsumoto-san’s mouth is bruised red and he looks completely fuckable and it’s a good look on him, he thinks, as he slowly drops himself back and watches the way Matsumoto-san’s jaw goes slack, his eyes heavy-lidded.  
  
“Only if you want me to,” Matsumoto-san rasps out and well, he admires the man’s restraint despite his own slipping through his fingertips every goddamn time he feels the tip of Matsumoto-san’s cock grazing that spot inside him that’s flaring every nerve-ending in his body. “This one’s yours, Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san follows with a harsh breath, fingers scrambling at the sheet beneath them as he begins rolling his hips.   
  
"But god, you  _have_  to slow down or I'm gonna come in a second," Matsumoto-san complains around a harsh whimper and fuck it all, he likes this look on Matsumoto-san's face, too.  
  
"And here I thought I could look forward to a nice, long ride on your cock," he teases, rolling his hips in counter to Matsumoto-san's own, “so your stamina's not as good as advertised, huh?"  
  
“Fucking tease,” Matsumoto-san hisses through tightly gritted teeth, eyes moving down from his face to his chest, and down to his cock bobbing in between his thighs. “I am so tempted to just push you down and let you have it right now, you jerk,”   
  
He laughs, breathy and husky, and rocks back a little; Matsumoto-san’s eyes loll to the back of his head and he laughs again.  
  
“Fuck!” Matsumoto-san curses, tipping his head back, “Sho-san,”  
  
“Yeah, alright,” he agrees, then pulling himself up and then sliding back down again, trying to find the rhthym he thinks they lost when they parted ways two years ago. But then he realized his body sure knows what it wants, now, and it sure knows what Matsumoto-san’s own body’s after, too, and before long they are moving in tandem, mouths fused together, not-quite kissing so much as sharing breathes.   
  
He’s bouncing up and down Matsumoto-san’s lap and the sounds of their bodies coming together is almost obscene if not for the fact that it feels so fucking good, muttering about it as Matsumoto-san rises from the bed to participate with the fuck fest. They are moaning into each other’s mouth before either of them realizes it, and he barely has time to appreciate the fucking sexy sounds Matsumoto-san is making until the man growls, long and outdrawn, into his neck.  
  
“Coming –“ Matsumoto-san announces with a gasp and he stills, allows Matsumoto-san to rock up into him with fast, shallow thrusts as he rides out his pleasure.   
  
When Matsumoto-san’s hand closes around him to squeeze him, it’s when he comes, shuddering into the other man as Matsumoto-san fists him, breath warm against his skin as Matsumoto-san holds him until their heartbeats even out.  
  
+++  
  
Once Matsumoto-san has taken care of the cleaning duties, he goes back to take him into his arms and doesn’t let go despite his whining.   
  
“Don’t think you’re off the hook just because you’re trying to cuddle the shit out of me,” he grumbles into Matsumoto-san’s chest, jabs Matsumoto-san with his thumb when the man all but chuckles into his hair.  
  
“I thought I’ve already been off the hook the minute you gracefully dropped on your knees and demanded to suck me,”  
  
He jabs Matsumoto-san again for good measure. “It was my fault for thinking with my dick,” he retorts, blushing; it’s a good thing Matsumoto-san can’t see his face. “Now my head’s clearer so I think its high time we talk – or at least you will talk and I will listen,”  
  
“What do you want me to say?” Matsumoto-san asks, “I thought the reason you’re here is because Ninomiya-san already explained everything to you. Or he didn’t?”  
  
“He didn’t,” he clarifies, “I cheated,”  
  
“What?”   
  
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter now,” he says, shaking his head and frowning because really, he realized nothing is as important as having Matsumoto-san back into his life like this. He feels the bubble of panic rises but it immediately eases up when he feels Matsumoto-san’s fingers sliding through his hair. God, he can't even remember the last thing he wants to say, or scream at Matsumoto-san's face for that matter and maybe it's because of the explosive orgasm he just experienced not even fifteen minutes ago. It may probably even due to some other shit that’s making his insides knot right now but he can’t be sure. "I just. Yeah, forget it,"  
  
"You sure?"  
  
Damn right he is, but it's not too bad to know those other details if he could, right? Maybe not right away but, yeah, it'll be nice to talk about those things when the dust settles. Right now though, he just want this -- him and Matsumoto-san holding each other like the past two years hadn't happened, as if the distance never happened, as if those sleepless nights he had to endure were nothing but mere nightmares.   
  
"I -- yeah,"  
  
A beat, then, "Don't hold back, alright?" Matsumoto-san breathes into the side of his temple, carefully choosing his words. "Ask me anything and I will try my best to answer them, even if it means I have to pry open old wounds just so you know I don't have any intention of keeping things from you, ever again,"  
  
"If I ask, you will tell me?"  
  
Matsumoto-san nods in agreement. "I will try my best,"  
  
All he knows is that being here, right now, feels so fucking right that the world could just go fuck itself over and he wouldn’t even care. “Then I just -- I want you to tell me that –“ he pauses here, breathes in deep and wishes he doesn’t sound as eager as he feels. Afterall, he knows he's not the only one who is in this so deep so he guesses it's alright to demand something in return. “ – that you intend on staying with me this time, that you’re not leaving, never again. That if ever there will come a time I’ll lose my head and push you out of the door again, you won’t leave for good and that you will try to work things out with me,”  
  
Another longer beat. “I – you should know by now that I've _never_  left you, Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san breathes, soft and tender, and Sho’s heart starts skipping all over the place. Damn it all, it should be disgusting, how ridiculously happy he is but it’s not and it actually feels so damn good, being here inside Matsumoto-san’s arms as if he always belonged there. “Even if you think that I did, I – I  _didn’t,"_  Matsumoto-san whispers, and he clutches at his chest, willing his heart to stop doing that crazy swooping thing before it kills him. "I  _can’t_ ,”  
  
He snuggles further into the warmth of Matsumoto-san’s body and feels the other man’s arms tugging him in.   
  
“And I still wonder about that, to be honest,” he confesses, because it’s the truth. It’s not once he found himself wondering what Matsumoto-san saw in him, what has separated him from all the rest despite his many flaws as a human being for this man to want him just as much, to love him as if he wouldn’t settle for anyone else but him. This gorgeous, perfect man that is the very reason he is happy and glad to be where he is right now. Not that Matsumoto-san is the epitome of perfection but well, in his eyes, he already kinda is.  
  
“Don’t,” Matsumoto-san warns him, but it lacks the bite he probably intended as he allows himself to be tugged closer, and closer still. “Sho-san, don’t you ever think that, okay? You’re – you’re just, you’re everything to me, okay? I – I’m not – I should be the one asking that, because I don’t deserve this – this happiness I only ever feel when I’m with you and I’m so thankful for that, even after the mess I’ve put you through eversince we met. But I – god, you’re just, you’re everything, Sho-san. My life won’t mean a thing if you’re not in it and you don’t know how glad I am to be alive, now that you allowed me to hold you like this again,”  
  
“Mess? What mess?” he breathes, confused. “If anyone’s messing things up, that’s me,” he says, “God, how many times did I push you away even if the only thing I wanted was --- “  _to have you close like this, too_ ,  _to hold you and never let you go_ , he wants to say but words wouldn’t come out properly so he just settles with,  “I hope you can forgive me for being so stupid,”  
  
Matsumoto-san takes his face in his hand and leans down to kiss him, soft and sweet this time. "You're not," Matsumoto-san whispers, fingers stroking tender touches across his jaw. "You were being careful and it's fine, I completely understand that. I just -- the first time we met, I want you already that I did everything in my power to get my hands on you, to have you however I could have you because I’m selfish like that. I used my money to trap you, Sho-san, and I kept on using it even after you told me you didn't want anything to do with me anymore. But the money is just the only way I know how to use to reach you, and I'm sorry if I --"  
  
"What the fuck are you even saying," he mutters, carefully flicking Matsumoto-san's temple with his thumb and grinning when Matsumoto-san looks torn between chuckling and crying. "You don't need to explain those to me anymore, alright? I knew from the beginning that you're our sponsor --" he pauses here just to enjoy the expression on Matsumoto-san's face and smiles before he leans in for another kiss. "so it's alright, I mean, you have money and you don't have any problem throwing it away for someone like me --"  
  
"Don't," Matsumoto-san warns him again, "I already told you, you’re just, you’re everything to me,” Matsumoto-san points out, fiercely, cupping his jaw and keeping his face firmly in place as he talks. “So don’t say things that make you come off as lesser because, god, Sho-san, you’re – I am  _so_  in love with you and I --- I’d give you the world if that’s what you want but just –“  
  
“I knew that already,” he confesses, leaning up for another softer, tamer kiss. “And you really should stop talking now because all these sappy shit is making me feel like a fucking girl. God.”  
  
He shakes his head and wishes he has the exact words to describe how he feels but anything he say probably won’t be enough. But he trusts that he and Matsumoto-san could make this work, at least after all the shit they’ve put each other through.  
  
Matsumoto-san gives him a smile that would have melted even the coldest heart and he doesn’t realize he’s giving the other man the same, sappy smile until Matsumoto-san reaches up to stroke his cheek, his touch warm to the touch.  
  
“I love you so much, Sho-san,” Matsumoto-san whispers, pulling him closer and resting their foreheads together. “And thank you, for allowing me this privilege when I thought I already lost you forever that night you told me to go. I – it might not going to be easy for you being with me, but we’ll compromise, alright? I – I can’t live without you, you should know that by now so whatever you require for  _this_  – for us to work, just tell me, okay?”  
  
He's not sure if words are going to be answer enough but for now, he knows an even better way to show Matsumoto-san what he feels about all this.  
  
He takes Matsumoto-san's face in hand and presses their mouths together.   
  
"Later," he murmurs, shifting around and throwing his legs over Matsumoto-san's own before he moves on top of Matsumoto-san's body. "We have the rest of our lives to talk about those but for now --" he pauses and ducks down to kiss the tiny mark above Matsumoto-san's lip.   
  
"Let's compromise on this, shall we?" he says, smiling teasingly as he moves to grab Matsumoto-san's hips.   
  
"Whatever you want, Sho-san,"  
  
He grins. "Great," he agrees, coaxing Matsumoto-san to lie on his stomach. "Now I want my turn," he whispers and ducks down to nip the back of Matsumoto-san's neck, palming Matsumoto-san's ass.  
  
"So, can I?"  
  
Matsumoto-san simply wriggles and turns to bury his face against the pillow.  
  
"I'll say," Matsumoto-san breathes, his words muffled by the pillow but it's still clear enough for him to hear it,  "you don't even  need to ask,"  
  
He chuckles and hums something indistinct against Matsumoto-san's shoulder at the same time his fingers invade Matsumoto-san's body.   
  
"Thank you. And oh, by the way," he mutters, watching his fingers disappear inside Matsumoto-san's body, "I fucking love you, too,"


End file.
